“You certainly had an interesting first day,” Jack said, glancing briefly over to Maia who was contemplating the scenery through her window while his pick-up navigated by a row of expensive beach houses. “Why didn’t you tell me about the incident at the beach?“
“Jack, seriously? You know what I do for a living, right? What those losers did was insignificant in the grand scheme of things,” she said in irritation.
“Rick said they touched you,” Jack said roughly, his anger returning.
“I let them touch me. There’s a difference. It was either that or blow my cover,” Maia said as if explaining something to a child. Then she looked at Jack and saw his hands had tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. “It was nothing, they didn’t fondle me or anything, just licked my neck and brushed my breast.”
Okay, that was not the right thing to say, Jack looked like he was ready to commit murder. Every molecule of air seemed to have been sucked out of the cabin. What was with this overprotective macho-bullshit? Jack knew she could take care of herself.
“You may want to loosen your grip on that steering wheel, buddy. You’ve got a vintage truck here,” Maia said, trying to cut the tension with some humor.
Jack didn’t answer. The muscle of his jaw started working as if he was clenching his teeth too hard.
It didn’t take long for the pick-up to pull into the driveway leading to the stonehouse. Maia longed to crash into that soft bed; she was so ready for the day to be over.
Jack was furious about two things: that some jerks had touched Maia and that she would do anything—even let those assholes touch her—just to protect her cover. The questions that had twisted in his gut early that morning came rushing back. How far was she willing to go to protect her precious job? Was sex really a part of her arsenal, what kind of company was AGS to allow that?
Well, he intended to find out right away.
He didn’t even bother parking the truck in the garage, but he stopped just in front of the stonehouse, yanked the keys out of the ignition, slammed out of the car and darted right around to the passenger side. Maia had already started exiting the truck, but Jack tugged the door from out of her grasp, reached in for her wrist and dragged her around to the side of the truck. Caging her between his arms, he pressed down her body with the length of his.
“Hey!“ Maia yelped, more in annoyance than anger.
“So what exactly would you do to protect your cover?” Jack asked softly.
“Step back!”
He didn’t budge.
“I’m warning you, Jack!” Maia eyes glittered with her rising temper.
“Answer me!”
“Go to hell! Stop pissing me off!”
She tried to kick out but his muscular thighs were keeping her locked in. He quickly held both her wrists down to keep her arms immobile at her sides. Jack knew that in close proximity his strength had the advantage over her, she had no momentum and no leverage. He had her.
“Do you fuck them?”
“It’s none of your goddamn business!”
“Do. You. Fuck. Them?” he thundered.
“Fuck you!”
“Well, sweetheart, that’s the idea.”
He crushed his mouth against her so savagely he tasted blood. He leaned her across the hood of the pick-up and pulled her arms apart while viciously thrusting his tongue through her lips not caring if she bit him.
She ignited and started returning his kisses. He groaned and delved further into her mouth, coaxing her tongue to tangle with his. He released her wrists and lifted her a little to spread her legs to accommodate his hips. Her newly freed hands slid up his head to sift wildly through his thick black hair. He became instantly hard, his erection straining against his jeans, and he started grinding and rubbing against her crotch. One hand went to cradle the back of her head while the other lifted one leg to grip her closer as he continued thrusting into her.
“Jack…” Maia breathed, her gorgeous eyes glazed with desire.
Hearing his name on her lips, he growled and withdrew his hand that was under her leg to rip the neckline of her shirt low, dragging the strap of her bra exposing one plump breast. He palmed her breast and started a nipple roll with his fingers which he soon replaced with his mouth. He flicked her nipple with his tongue and pulled it between his teeth before suckling hard.
“Jack …”
He trailed kisses back up her neck, lingering on her delicate jaw, and then cupped her face with both of his hands, looking into her eyes.
“Tell me,” he said quietly.
“I don’t. It never gets that far,” she whispered.
He lowered his lips again to gently brush hers and then pulled her away from the pick-up and straightened her clothes.
“Sorry about your shirt,” he said with a slight smirk.
“I didn’t bring many clothes with me, you know,” Maia replied ruefully.
“I’ll make it up to you,” Jack promised. “Let’s get you inside.”
She was such a slut. She let Jack McCord dry-hump her against the hood of his pick-up truck. She couldn’t get any sluttier than that.
At least he didn’t appear smug about it. He acted the perfect gentleman when they got into the house. Jack didn’t drag her up to his bedroom to take care of his raging hard on, but instead led her to his study to offer her some fortifying spirits. It was almost the end of October and the evening temperature had dipped to a nippy 50 degrees. She was used to extreme temperature changes but after their heated encounter on the side of his truck, she felt unusually chilled and welcomed two fingers of whiskey.
Jack informed her that he had to leave early the next day for New Park City and wouldn’t be back until Saturday night, which was Halloween. He walked her through her login to the MDI network and showed her how to setup the connection to AGS. He also left her all the contact information of his technical support personnel.
He walked her to her bedroom and gave her a lingering kiss at the door.
“I don’t want to rush this,” he murmured. “I want this.” He caressed her face with the back of his fingers, his eyes inscrutable.
“Jack, this is just sex, remember?”
He smiled. “Yeah. But I still want my apple pie.”
She wondered if that had a double-meaning.
Maia was not inexperienced about sex, but she wasn’t a sex siren either. She only lost her virginity at twenty-one: it took her that long to get over a near-rape trauma that had happened when she was twelve.
Her father was a Russian nuclear scientist who had gotten mixed up with a bratva involved in weapons-grade plutonium trafficking. He had planned to get out, making a deal with the CIA—information about the mob’s nuclear depots in exchange for safe passage to the United States—before the exchange could take place, the mob boss found out and sent thugs to find out what her father had revealed to the spy agency. Viktor’s special forces team under CIA directive was responsible for her family’s extraction. When the mob’s death squad showed up unexpectedly, the team was told to stand down and to let everything play out. There was intel that a lieutenant in the mob’s chain of command was among the death squad and could reveal invaluable information in the bugged house.
They killed her father and raped and killed her mother in front of her. Maia clenched her eyes as the memories she had buried deep within resurfaced. Then the men turned on her. The moment they dragged her to the floor, the windows to the house exploded and the special forces team moved in. Viktor had defied CIA orders and had the support of his team to storm the house and rescue the twelve-year-old girl about to be gang-raped by the Russian mob. They killed every single one of them.There had been dire consequences of course: Viktor and his men were all forced to quit their commission. Meanwhile, she was sent to an orphanage, but Viktor had tracked her down, pulled her out and installed her with her current foster parents.
Her bond with Viktor was deep. He was 27-years-old when he had rescued her. They had known each other for eighteen years and he was still the person she trusted most.
Maia had learned to cope with her trauma. For the first few years, she would not let any man touch her, but soon her hormones took over and she started necking and petting like any teenager. When she officially joined the AGS at 21, she fell in love with one of the Guardians, Steve Wilcox. There was a strict no-fraternizing rule, for obvious reasons, but they kept their relationship a secret. Steve was a gentle lover and knew about her past, so he eased her into the joys of sex. When Viktor found out, he fired Steve and put Maia on probation. Their relationship fizzled out eventually helped in no small part by Viktor deploying her out of the country, probably to keep her away from Steve.
She had decided that with her lifestyle, she didn’t need a relationship. Viktor paid her well, so she could afford to take three-week vacations to exclusive beach resorts and embark on temporary affairs to pretend to be normal, enjoy no-strings-attached sex and part with no regrets.
She had met Mike Callahan during an AGS meeting two years ago. He was handsome, distinguished and smart and they were instantly attracted to each other. Viktor was developing the protective custody business of AGS and Maia was brought in to train new Guardians. Her traveling was kept to a minimum, so when Mike asked her out, she agreed. They had been together for three months when Maia went on a particularly risky mission and had to be incommunicado for two weeks. Mike went berserk and laid it thickly on Viktor, but Viktor had refused to reveal her location or get in contact with her as it would have jeopardized everyone involved. When she got back, they got into an ugly fight, in which Mike told her to quit AGS immediately.
She quit him.
Mike tried to get her back, but she knew that having a relationship with any man was not going to work.
So she was going to treat this thing with Jack like her three-week long affairs. When she moved on Reznikov, that would be the end of it.
Maia looked through the series of snapshots on the monitor. On a small picture window at the top right-hand corner of her screen, a very blond man, with hawkish features who looked to be in his mid-forties, was in videoconference with her—Viktor Baran.
“So you’re saying Sergei Reznikov is cut-off from his bratva in Russia?” Maia asked.
“Yes, but there’s something else going on,” Viktor said looking very grim. A very grim Viktor was not good. “Gavlik hired us to rescue his cousin Volynski from Reznikov but it looked like Gavlik was behind the production of Rave-IX.” Rave-IX was a recreational drug much like ecstasy, but was more potent. It had become very popular across dance clubs in Europe but had also been blamed for dozens of deaths due to overdose. It was highly addictive. It was also rumored to have reached the United States.
“Where is Volynski?”
“He’s gone to ground but was able to send us a message that Gavlik had ordered a hit on him.”
“Damn. Have you talked to Gavlik?” Maia asked.
“He is refusing all communication with AGS right now. Told us our business was done. We’ve classified him as hostile.”
“So he wanted us to get Volynski for him to whack and maybe in the process eliminate Reznikov?”
“Looks that way. We believe Gavlik is the pakhan and Reznikov was a high-level henchman. I would not be surprised if Gavlik ordered the kidnapping of Volynski in the first place. But since Rave-IX got big, Reznikov got greedy and positioned himself to take over the bratva or at least control distribution to the United States which would be a lot of money. There are indications that a shipment of Rave-IX is in a container at Baltimore Harbor and is just sitting there. We’re working that angle right now,” Viktor said.
“That could be millions of dollars.”
“No shit.”
“Where’s the DEA and the Feds on all this?”
“They’ve been informed and they’re letting us make our play on this. They’re tied up dismantling Vergara’s organization, which seems to be growing new heads everyday.”
“So, Raul Vergara was supposed to be the mover for Rave-IX, but the DA got to him and we’ve foiled their attempt to eliminate their star witness. So now we’ve got a shit load of drugs sitting somewhere with no distributor.”
“Not yet, not with the arrest warrants out. This thing is still too hot. But with the money involved, someone’s going to throw down.”
“That means Reznikov is lying low. He was last seen in Alexandria, Virginia,” Maia grumbled. “And I’m marooned in the Outer Banks.”
“Stand down, Maia.”
“I should be in Northern Virginia.”
“No, what you should have done was follow the playbook.”
“Are we back to that again?” Maia retorted.
“Yes. You’re number one on Reznikov’s hit list. If you had just delivered Volynski as ordered and had not gone back for the two girls—getting into a shootout I might add—there wouldn’t have been a video of you breaking them out. That loop we had rigged into their camera system was only good for one extraction,” Viktor said suddenly annoyed.
“I couldn’t leave them there. They would be in the dregs of Russian prostitution by now. You would have done the same thing. Do you regret what you did for me?” Maia demanded.
“We’re not talking about me,” Viktor snapped. “And no, for the last fucking time, I do not regret getting you out!”
“Okay, moving on then,” Maia said, knowing when to back off. “Anything else you have for me?”
“What’s going on between you and McCord?” Viktor asked softly.
“Right now, not much,” Maia replied in all honesty. So she agreed to bake the guy an apple pie. That was by no means a vow of ever after.
“Baby, I know you can take care of yourself, but Jack McCord is a player. None of his relationships have lasted more than eight months, the average is three. He had a fiancée who died in a car accident twelve years ago. He’s never had a serious relationship since.”
“May I remind you that my last relationship lasted three months, do you not remember how that ended? And my average hookup is three weeks with vast spells of nothing in between,” Maia reminded him.
Viktor burst out laughing. “Now I’m beginning to fear for McCord.”
“Look, don’t worry about me. Obviously the guy’s never gotten over his fiancée, and that’s really tragic, but he’s been pretty decent to me and a good kisser to boot,” Maia added on a laugh.
“As long as I don’t have any angry lovers beating down my door demanding where you are…”
“You won’t.”
“And practice safe sex.”
“Viktor!”
“Later, baby. Tomorrow, same time?”
“Yeah.”
Jeez, Viktor can be annoying.
Maia resumed piecing together the information on Reznikov on the AGS system when Grace spoke through the intercom: “Maia, honey, Jack’s assistant is here for you.”
Maia gaped at the mind-boggling quantity of shopping bags, boxes and dress bags that littered the living room. They were also spectacularly expensive labels.
“What is this?” she asked Grace, but the housekeeper just shrugged her elegant shoulders.
“What is this?” Maia repeated, this time glaring at the petite, buxom woman dressed smartly in a designer pant suit.
“Good afternoon, Miss Pierce. I’m Laurie Stone, one of Jack’s personal assistants.” She smiled, stepping forward.
“He has more than one?” Maia said to no one in particular.
“Mr. McCord informed me that you were in need of several pieces of clothing.”
“These are more than several pieces, and how the heck did he know my size? Did he ask you, Grace?” Maia demanded, almost accusingly.
“If you’re asking if he ordered me to go through your things, then no,” Grace replied, her lips twitching as if to control a smile.
“Jack has a talent for guessing women’s sizes,” Laurie said with tinkling laughter.
Maia pulled out a black bustier from one of the bags. It was cut very low in the back, had delicate boning and was intricately woven in expensive lace and silk. “I bet he does.” Yes, he had guessed the correct cup size. Impressive.
Both women started laughing.
“I don’t need all these clothes. He should have consulted me first. Do you have the total bill Laurie? I can make a bank transfer,” Maia said.
The other two women exchanged glances, wearing identical frowns.
“Jack’s taken care of it,” Laurie said carefully.
“I know, and I do appreciate how he’s gone above and beyond, but I hate owing people money and would like to settle the bill as soon as possible.”
“No. Jack took care of it. This is all on his account—a gift if you will,” Laurie explained further.
If smoke could rise out of Maia’s ears, the entire house would be choking.
“Oh no, he didn’t,” Maia whispered, almost to herself. She could almost feel a ball and chain shackling her, but reminded herself that Jack was not that type.
“He does it for most of his arrangements.”
“I’m not one of his fucking arrangements!” Maia snapped but apologized when she realized Grace had flinched at her curse.
“Give me the bill,” she told Laurie in a no-nonsense tone.
“You’ll get me fired.”
“Oh, for God’s sakes he won’t fire you!”
“No, but he’ll be very displeased with me. It’s going to reflect in my year-end review.”
Maia rolled her eyes. “Call him.”
“He’s at a very important meeting right now. DND. Do not disturb.”
“Ahhrghh!” Maia threw up her hands. Jack was so exasperating.
“Is there anything else you need, Miss Pierce? I have to fly back soon,” Laurie asked tentatively.
“You flew in?”
Laurie missed the lethal tone.
“Via helicopter.”
“You flew in via helicopter to deliver my clothes?” Maia verified in a very, very lethal tone.
Laurie thought it best not to answer.
“Anything else, Miss Pierce?” she squeaked instead.
“Yes, Jack’s head on a silver platter.”
Jack chuckled at the frantic text message from his personal assistant. As expected, a big push-back from Maia and she was out for blood—his head on a silver platter to be exact.
“I take it, Maia wasn’t happy about your latest gesture,” Derek stated sardonically.
“No, I think she has frightened poor Laurie,” Jack replied, still chuckling.
“She’s not a hearts and flowers kind of girl.”
“I’ll say …”
“Although she might be the guns and knives kind,” Derek added.
Jack stopped chuckling and frowned. Derek cocked an eye brow and said, “What? Didn’t occur to you that if you gave her a new semi-automatic, high-caliber pistol you’d get a better response?”
Jack’s frown deepened.
“I’ve seen Maia’s eyes sparkle enough times whenever Viktor sends her something new to blow up stuff with.”
“Jesus Christ,” Jack muttered as it dawned on him that his friend could be right. He was in uncharted territory. All the women he had ever dated loved designer labels and diamonds.
Then, as if picking up something else from Derek’s statement, Jack asked, “Who, exactly, is Viktor to her? And don’t tell me to ask Maia again because I know you’ve had enough dealings with both of them to form an opinion.”
“Viktor and Maia had known each other for eighteen years. All I can say is that he was there when she needed him the most…”
“That would make her …”
“Twelve when she met him. He was twenty-seven.”
“I sure hope that it’s all brotherly love,” Jack murmured. He was getting a sick feeling in his stomach.
“Jack, I wouldn’t worry that Viktor would stand in the way of your lascivious designs on Maia,” Derek laughed. “She handles liaisons like yours very well. Look, I had doubts at first, but I thought better based on what I know about you so I’m assuming you’re just having fun after staying monogamous with Isabella for almost eight months. I don’t blame you for finding Maia and her situation intriguing. Am I right?”
“You could be,” Jack replied blithely.
“Jack… ” Derek said, frowning.
“Yes,” Jack snapped to shut up his friend. What? Were they gonna talk about his feelings now? Christ! Derek could be such a girl.
“Good. Because you’d be relieved to know that Maia is used to these affairs.”
“What do you mean?” Jack’s eyes narrowed, not sure he was going to like what his friend was about to say.
“She has this ritual: three-week long vacations on an exclusive resort somewhere, hookup with whoever catches her fancy and when the vacation is over she moves on. It’s the way she copes with her life, she says. For a few weeks she gets to pretend to be a girl in a hot affair with sex on the beach …”
“She tells you these things?” Jack cut in incredulously.
“Sometimes over tequila when she’s shit-faced enough to feel like sharing,” Derek said as if in fond remembrance. Jack made a mental note about plying Maia with tequila.
“And Callahan?”
“A moment of weakness, she said. Callahan went gonzo when Maia disappeared for two weeks and he went all DA on Viktor. That got ugly,” Derek said and then continued solemnly, as if in male camaraderie. “I have faith in your ability to keep your heart out of it, Jack. Let her go after this whole mess with the Russian is over.”
Grace was preparing chicken and dumplings for dinner while Maia put the groceries away in the pantry and refrigerator. Grace’s nephew, Kyle, drove up in a beat-up pick-up truck to deliver the order for the weekend: rack of lamb, eggs, some cold cuts, flour, apples (for the apple pie), butter, Halloween candy and a slew of other dried goods.
Maia invited Kyle to stay for dinner after making sure that Betty didn’t need him back at the store. It was Kyle’s evening off anyway so everything worked out well.
Kyle Banning was a big kid. He had dark brown wavy hair, chocolate colored-eyes and was built like a quarterback. No question, he had made more than a couple of high-school girls swoon. He also acted very mature for his age, a clear sense of responsibility already etched into his eyes.
“Do we even get trick or treaters up this way? The house is some way off from the main road.” Maia wondered.
“You’d be surprised actually. Jack is rarely home, the local kids think this place is haunted so they come by to check it out,” Grace replied as she dropped dumplings into the broth.
“What do you do when Jack is not around?” Maia asked curiously.
“I come in once a week to make sure everything is clean and running smoothly. When Jack has functions in New Park, he brings me in to take care of the apartment and sometimes the menu if it’s just a sit-down dinner. If it’s a large function he lets me oversee the catering. He keeps me on retainer and is a very generous employer.”
“Have you worked for him long?”
“About nine years.”
All this time, Kyle had been quietly staring at her so Maia looked over to him and smiled. “I’d offer you a beer but I don’t want to get thrown into jail.”
Kyle’s color heightened a bit, he gave a half-grin and looked down at his glass of what looked like iced tea.
Yup, Kyle was working up the charm with that sexy half-grin. The boy was going to break plenty of hearts before he even got to drinking age.
“Dinner is almost ready,” Grace announced. “Kyle, get the bowls and set the table.”
Over dinner, Maia was careful not to talk about herself and asked about recreational activities in Westcove besides fishing, sailing and lying on the beach.
“You need to try hang gliding,” Kyle suggested. “I’d be happy to show you.”
“Sounds scary.” Actually, Maia knew how to hang glide quite proficiently.
“I guess the busiest time of the year is still the summer, huh?” she continued with her lame line of questioning.
“Westcove is almost its own community of locals. We don’t get the majority of the tourists. Most of the folks who live here are retirees and caretakers of those expensive beach houses you’ve seen around,” Kyle clarified.
“Explains why Westcove Tavern was packed last night,” Maia added.
“Westcove Tavern is an institution. Everyone in the Outer Banks comes up here for the burgers,” Kyle stated proudly.
“Good people,” Grace said.
Kyle’s eyes clouded. “There’ve been a few shady men rolling around town lately, Aunt Grace. They’ve been here a couple of weeks. I don’t trust them.”
Maia tensed. She knew exactly who they were: those three jackasses from the beach.
“Have they been bothering you or Betty?” Grace asked worriedly.
“Ma wouldn’t say anything, but one of our employees told me they came in to the grocery last week and talked to Ma for a while. Ma was angry afterward and she’d been tense all week,” he said.
“If they’ve been harassing her she should report it to the Westcove Police Department. I’m sure Bill would look into it, and Rick too,” the housekeeper said. “What could they possibly want? Should I talk to Betty?”
“They’re probably extortionists, but I couldn’t understand why they would think the people in this small town would put up with them. Seemed everyone here had each other’s back. You go up against one, you go up against all,” Maia said.
But even as she said this, she remembered Rick Tanner’s words: trouble has been trickling down from the bigger cities. She was getting a really, really bad feeling about it.
