A Dangerous Game

A Dangerous Game

Lucinda Carrington

Synopsis:

"I can handle Nicolas," said Jacey.

"That's what plenty of other women have said," Carmen warned her.

Maybe they have, Jacey thought.
 
But I have an advantage over them.
 
In

their case Nicolas Shiemann was using them.
 
In my case, I'm using

him.

I'll use his knowledge, and his body.
 
And I'm going to enjoy every

minute of it!

Doctor Jacey Muldaire knows what she wants from the men in her life:

good sex and no strings.
 
And it looks like she's going to get plenty

of it while working in an elite private hospital in
South America
.

However, Jacey is not all she pretends to be.
 
A woman of many guises,

her first loyalty lies with British Intelligence.
 
And her femme fatale

persona gives her access to places that other spies can't get to.

The men she's got her eye on, dictators and charismatic rebel

leaders, do not know that while playing along with their sexual

games, she's forcing them to play hers.
 
Every day is full of risk and

adventure, and everyone is playing a dangerous game.
 

By the best-selling author of The 90 Days of Genevive,

THE PUBLISHERS RECOMMEND THAT THIS BOOK SHOULD BE SOLD TO ADULTS ONLY

Cover design: Staffer-Anderson Cover photograph: Steve Diet Goedde

Black Lace is an imprint of Virgin Publishing Ltd.

ISBN 0-352-33432-0

Adult fiction

A Dangerous Game

Jacey surveyed her reflection in the mirror.
 
You look like a tart, she

thought, amused at her image.
 
She knew this was exactly what Nicolas

wanted.
 
In this game he wanted a woman who would do as she was told.

I'll act the part for him, she thought.
 
She smiled.
 
There was

something Nicolas did not suspect.
 
She was playing games too with him.

But her game was no fantasy and in it she was the one in control.

By the same author:

THE NINETY DAYS OF GENEVIEVE.

A DANGEROUS LADY.

THE MASTER OF SHILDEN.

A Dangerous Game

LUCINDA CARRINGTON

Black Lace novels are sexual fantasies.
 
In real life, make sure you

practise safe sex.

First published in 1999 by Black Lace Thames Wharf Studios, Rainville

Road,
London
W6 9HA Copyright Lucinda Carrington 1999 Reprinted 1999

The right of Lucinda Carrington to be identified as the Author of this

Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs

and Patents Act 1998

Typeset by Set Systems Ltd, Saffron Walden, Essex Printed and bound by

Mackays of Chatham plc

ISBN 0 352 33432 0

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance

to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of

trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated

without the publisher's prior written consent in any form of binding or

cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar

condition including this condition being imposed in the subsequent

purchaser.

Chapter One.

Jacey Muldaire could see Anton lying on the bed, a sheet twisted

loosely round his knees.
 
His cock was limp now, but still an

impressive size.
 
It gave her a thrill of pleasure to look at him,

half-naked, and asleep.
 
He was always sleepy after making love.

She sighed, knotted the sash of her black silk kimono, and switched on

the kettle.
 
Anton O'Rhiann, she thought.
 
French mother, Irish

father;

an explosively gorgeous combination.
 
A body like an athlete and dark

eyes that could melt steel.
 
Most of the nurses were drooling over him,

envying anyone who was able to get close to him, and certainly envying

her.
 
And I didn't even try to hook him, she remembered.
 
If he hadn't

questioned me when we were doing the ward rounds, I probably wouldn't

have even noticed him.
 
Then she smiled.
 
Well, maybe that's not quite

true, she thought.
 
I would have noticed him, but I wouldn't have

encouraged him.
 
He did all the chasing.
 
And I did warn him.
 
I told

him I wasn't into permanent relationships.
 
He didn't believe me then,

and he doesn't believe me now.
 
Neither does anyone else.
 
They can't

see why I don't grab him with both hands while I've got the chance.

The water boiled and the kettle switched off.
 
She took two red mugs

from the cupboard and glanced through the open door again.
 
Anton

shifted lazily, turning on his side, displaying his neatly rounded

buttocks.
 
He's attractive in bed, and out, she admitted to herself.

He always gives me an orgasm.
 
And if we run out of small talk we can

always discuss work!

She knew that gossip at the hospital had already decided they were a

perfect couple.
 
The nurses were probably taking bets on when she would

announce her engagement, and Anton's friends were deciding what kind of

embarrassing tricks to play on him on his stag night.
 
They don't

understand, she thought.
 
And Anton doesn't understand either.
 
She

knew that he was hurt by her constant refusal to consider any kind of

permanent relationship.
 
He felt it was an insult to him.

"You can carry on working," he had often told her.

"I'm not suggesting you give up your career, for God's sake.
 
In fact,

I'm proud of you, Dr.
 
Muldaire!
 
Beauty and brains; it's a very sexy

combination."

He often told her she was beautiful.
 
She glanced at him again.
 
His

eyes were closed and his breathing was steady.
 
He had been on duty

before coming to see her.
 
It seemed a shame to wake him when he was so

tired, just to give him a mug of coffee.
 
She left the mugs on the

table and walked over to her full-length mirror.
 
Beauty and brains?

Well, I made it through university without too much trouble, she mused.

But beauty?
 
She had never considered herself beautiful.
 
She liked the

deep burnished red of her hair, a colour you could never find from a

hair-dye, but although she knew she had good cheekbones, she thought

her face too square and her lips too full to be described as

beautiful.

Striking perhaps, she conceded.
 
She had a dancer's legs, long and

slim, and a dancer's supple grace.
 
Her breasts were OK; not huge, but

at least visible.
 
She had never liked her bottom, and she thought her

hips were too narrow.
 
It was then that she heard a soft wolf-whistle

behind her and turned.
 
Anton was sitting up in bed.

"I thought you were asleep," she said.

"All good doctors sleep with one eye open," he said.
 
He grinned.

"Stop posing.
 
You know you're gorgeous."

"I'm not."
 
She twisted to look over her shoulder.

"My bottom's too small, and it looks like a man's."

Anton laughed.

"No one's ever going to mistake you for a man."

"I played Romeo in a school play," she said.

"I was very convincing.
 
I got good reviews."

"And how old were you?"
 
he scoffed.
 
Twelve?
 
Thirteen?
 
Flat-chested

and spotty?
 
You wouldn't fool anyone now.
 
You're all woman."
 
He

patted the bed.

"Lie down and enjoy it."

She gave a theatrical gasp of surprise.

"Already?
 
Your powers of recovery are remarkable, sir."

"With you to inspire me I could be a six-times-a-night man."
 
He

glanced down at his now semi-erect cock.

"See?
 
Just thinking about you is making me hard.
 
Come and use that

lovely mouth on me and inspire me a little bit more."

She shook her head and backed away.

"No.
 
I'm going to make coffee."

When she reached the kitchen she glanced back and saw that Anton had

stretched out on the bed again, his eyes closed.
 
She smiled and went

into the living room, where most of Anton's clothes were scattered.

She picked up his denims and tugged them on, surprised to find that

they were quite a good fit.
 
His soft, leather bomber jacket was too

large but it disguised her breasts.
 
She dragged her hair back as

severely as she could and pushed the pony tail under the jacket collar.

Then she found an old baseball cap which someone had given her one day

when it was raining.
 
She pulled it on, walked back into the bed room

and shook Anton roughly.

"Wake up, big boy," she growled.

"Fancy some action?"

She saw the bemused expression on his face as he opened his eyes.
 
It

was momentary but it satisfied her.

"Fooled you!"
 
She pirouetted in front of him.

"And I wasn't really trying.
 
Think how much better I'd look in a man's

suit."

He grinned lazily.

"I've seen pictures of Marlene Dietrich in a suit.

She looked very sexy.
 
But she didn't look remotely like a man.
 
And

you wouldn't, either."

Jacey struck a camp pose, one hand on her hip.

"Well, handsome, d'you want me or not?"

He caught her wrist and pulled her down on the bed.

"I don't know," he said.

"I'll have to inspect what you're offering."
 
He deftly unzipped the

jeans and slipped his hand inside to discover that she wasn't wearing

panties, and that she was wet and aroused.
 
His fingers explored her.

"Well now, young man," he murmured.

"Something seems to be missing here."

"There's nothing missing," she teased back.

"Every thing's there.
 
It's just a question of size."

He captured her clitoris and tugged it gently.

"You mean you think you can satisfy me with this?"

She leant back on the bed and opened the leather bomber jacket.
 
Her