Armed and Dangerous (The IMA) (31 page)

I bit my lip. “From what I've heard, the law can be bent like the people who serve it.”

“I like you, Ms. Parker,” Perry said, after another long pause. I let out the breath I'd been holding. “You have a good head on your shoulders, and it's in remarkable condition. I admire your pragmatism.”

“
Does that mean you're going to hire me?”

He smiled. “It means that there's a chance. No more, no less.”

Epilogue

“
Well,” Michael said, closing the door behind us. “That went better than I thought it would.”

“
How did you think it would go?”

He looked at me over his shoulder before flicking on the light. “I thought I might have to use this, for a start.” He held up his gun before setting it down on the table. “We're getting a reputation, you and I.”

He looked good in the suit, very James Bond. Exactly how one might expect a secret agent or an assassin to look. The black brought out the golds in his skin and hair, and the green of his eyes.

I was still coming down from the adrenaline high of meeting the leader of such a deadly organization. Dizzily, I said, “A bad one?”

“The worst.” Michael leaned against the wall beside the table. “Congratulations on the job.”

“
He hasn't hired me. He said there was a chance.”

He laughed. “In this line of work, sweetheart, maybe means yes, and yes means without a doubt. I'm pretty sure you've got the job — if you want it.”

That gave me pause. I was working for the BN. An organization that, in its own way, was just as dangerous and secretive as the IMA.

“
Oh my God.”

“
Do
you want it?”

“
I…I don't know.” Yes, I did. If only because I knew that if I turned it down, I would wonder about it for the rest of my life. Computer coding. Computer hacking. They'd have me working with the best.

This must be why Dad did what he did. This rush. This challenge. This thrill
.

I would be more careful; I would carve out limits. I wouldn't let myself lose control, as he had.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“
I — I don't know. Different?” I folded my arms. “I feel exactly the same…only shocked.”

“
The shock wears off.” Michael shrugged off his coat. “So does the thrill.”

His words jarred against my conscious mind; it was as if he had read my thoughts.

What was it about him that made me captive? He was beautiful in his way, but looks can only go so far. Was it that I wanted to be the one to save him? Or was it that we had an understanding of one another in a way that nobody else in our lives had of us?

Maybe it was both. Maybe it was something that couldn't be put into words. Emotions are so complicated. We take our ability to explain them for granted, failing to take into account the fact that words frequently fail us when we need them most.

“You looked great — very in control. He seemed impressed.”

“
In control?” Me?

“
You're a brave woman, Christina Parker. It shows. Whether you think so or not. It shows.”

I took a step back. “I'm not brave.”

“You think just anyone could go through everything you went through and live?”

Well…

“You have.”

“
I'm not just anyone.”

What made me walk up to him? What made me say, “No, you aren't,” and kiss him? That moment of fragile vulnerability, something all the more precious because of how easily it could be crushed. I began to understand.

There was a beat of surprised stillness and then he kissed me back, pulling me towards him as his hands untucked my blouse from my skirt and slid up my back. He tasted like the black coffee he'd been sipping, sour and dark and not at all sweet.

The arm around my back pulled away a little. I felt his fingers stroke down my spine the way one might pet a cat. With each pass, he altered the pressure of his callused fingers, and the rasp of his skin on mine was like the swish of silk — a sibilant, sexual sound.

He moved back, catching his breath. Then I felt his mouth right beneath my ear. “Don't front with me.” His fingers slid through my hair, making my scalp tingle.  “You want to fool around, that's fine. But tell me where the limits are.”

I unfastened his collar. He watched me silently as I loosed each button from its hole. Each rise and fall of his chest was an epoch. I let my hands fall to my sides and he caught them in his, bending to kiss me.

But he froze a hairsbreadth away. “No,” he said, quietly but firmly. “Not until you tell me what you want.”

“
You,” I said. “No limits. Just you. Only…I don't want to be hurt.”

“
I'll try to be gentle.” His lips brushed against mine as he spoke. “But only for you.” I was aware of being propelled backwards. The bed hit the back of my knees. He grabbed my butt, forcing me to grab onto his neck as he scooped me up and then levered me back. The air hissed out of my lungs like a balloon deflating.

The pad of his thumb caressed the knot of nerves at the base of my skull. When I arched against him, he unsnapped the row of buttons on my blouse with a dextrous slide of his fingers that seemed practiced.

“I have a favor to ask.”

I clapped my hand over my chest, over my heart, to keep the fabric from gaping open. “What?”

“Don't let them turn you into a killer.”

His breath tickled my dampened skin. He pulled away from me, sliding his shirt off his shoulders. The gold crust of hair on his chest was matted with sweat, and I realized, suddenly, just how hot the room was.

“A killer?” I repeated.

“
Once you let them do that, they own your soul. They own it for the rest of your life.”

I hooked a finger through the strap of the holster running across his chest. I could feel his beating heart. “That's a bit hypocritical.”

“I don't want that goodness inside of you destroyed.” He began to unbutton his pants, but I pushed his hands away and unbuckled the leather strap keeping the empty holster at his hip. He tossed the whole mess on the floor. “That would break you.”

“
Okay,” I said.

“
They'll want to teach you how to use a gun, take you to a firing range. Say no.”

“
Okay.”

He pulled my blouse out from beneath my fingers, letting it gape open. “Don't mention me, either. We're enemies now. They won't just say you have Stockholm syndrome. They'll think I'm pumping you for information.”

I felt my face heat up. “I wouldn't do that.”

“
I know.” He kissed me quickly on the mouth, leaning his forehead against mine as he kneaded my breasts through the top, working it down to pool around my elbows. “You're good.”

He circled a nipple through my bra with his tongue while reaching around to unfasten the clasp. I gasped when his mouth found skin and felt him smile. “Very, very good.”

His hands were on my thighs, rough and warm. But gentle, as he'd promised. I'd been afraid that it was going to be the way it had been before — but this time, I wasn't scared. I had control. And I knew, that if I wanted, that this time he would stop if I asked.

“
You've changed,” I said.

“
You said that last time, too.”

His voice was husky. I was surprised he remembered. “Well, I guess you've changed more.”

“Is that good?” he asked distractedly, bunching my skirt around my hips. He hooked a finger through my underwear and pulled hard. I winced when the elastic snapped against my thigh, and he kissed my shoulder. “Fuck. Gentle. I forgot.”

“
It's okay. And yes, I think so.”

Michael lifted his eyes. “What?”

“I think you've changed for the better.”

“
I'm glad, darlin. Real glad.” He pulled his wallet out of his pants pocket before shoving them down his hips. “I'll be gladder still when I've got this fucking condom…out of the fucking wrapper. Dammit. Where the hell did it —
there
.”

I felt a twinge of dizziness as he pushed into me, the first stirrings of déjà vu that I'd been dreading. He could try to be gentle, but he couldn't reduce his size or change his appearance. He was still the same man.

“Oh,” he panted. “Right. I think you might like this.” He rolled over so that I was on top, and the momentum of it pushed him in deeper, and for a moment, I was falling, with nobody to catch me —

Nobody but him.

I inhaled sharply, looking down at him in shock.

“
I fucking love you, you know,” he said. “You made my life complicated as fuck, and I could care less.”

“
Thank you,” I said.

He laughed. “
Thank
you?”

I flushed. “I…care about you too, I think.”

“You care too much.”

It felt different, being the one on top, like I was the one in control. His body was no less powerful, but now I could feel the pliant softness of his skin sheathing his imposing musculature. I was more aware of his many vulnerabilities.

His eyes narrowed, and he tightened his grip a little, moving me up and down until I matched the pace he set. “What does that look mean?”

“
N-nothing. It's just…my father got a hit put on him for hacking into the IMA on accident. What will happen to me? I don't have any training. What if they send someone to kill me?”

He pulled my face down by my hair. “I wouldn't worry too much about that,
bebe
. Those lips of yours could kill a man.”

“
I'm serious,” I said.

“
So am I.”

He was intentionally side-stepping the issue. I knew that. And he knew that I knew that.

And that scared me, more than anything.

Seeing the fear on my face, he pulled back and said, “Don't worry. They'll train you — they'll train you well. You'll be locked and loaded and ready to go by the time they're through with you.”

“Really?” I whispered.

“
A real
femme fatale
.” He slid his hand up my thigh and squeezed. “Nobody will be able to touch you.”

Except you
, I thought, but didn't say, caught as I was in the crossfire of my own raging emotions.
Except you
. He had his fingers on the trigger of my heart.

I was starting to fall in love with Michael Boutilier. Quickly, violently. It was a love that was both armed and dangerous, a ticking time-bomb of destruction that threatened to send my whole world up in flames — and it felt good.

The end.

(Ack!)nowledgements


        
Thanks to McQuinn for her help in the
Revelation
chapter. She made me hate it much less. She is also responsible for Michael's “hard-on” zinger.


        
Squishy hugs to Louisa, for her beautiful covers and her willingness to listen to all my whining.


        
All my other whore-cruxes from PH.


        
Venus Smurf, president of my fan club.


        
All my friends and fans within the Goodreads community, for taking a chance on and supporting a little indie author like me.