Circle of Desire (5 page)

Tired of the juvenile heavy petting, she pulled her hands away and fumbled with his zipper. Only a millimeter from her goal, she opened her eyes as he jerked his mouth away. He grabbed her arms and pushed them above her head. His weight landed across her torso, holding her down. His face was above hers, but too far for her to reach and return to their kiss.

“Stop it.” His face flushed with desire and the same measure of anger. “Dammit. What’s it about you that makes me forget—” He took several deep breaths, his lips drawn tight.

Oh, Lord, he was a fine-looking man. He needed a woman to challenge him, loosen him up, and she was the perfect one to drive him into a sexual frenzy. Until she could find a way to escape, she would enjoy tormenting him. He wanted her. Yet he resisted. All so interesting.

He was unlike any man she’d met. Maybe she was hanging out with the wrong kind of men, men who took what they want and more and damn the consequences.

“What? Do you need to tie me up to get off?” She waited for his reaction. That was, if he would let her see it again.

He released her and stepped back. “You’ll cooperate or you’ll cause a lot of undue harm to those you care about,” he said. His warning hung in the air.

“What do you mean?” She didn’t like the sound of that. Only a handful of people had any claim to her affections and no one knew who they were.

So far his threats hadn’t bothered her—well, not that much—but the way he worded this threat told her it was different. More serious. She didn’t like the way he was looking at her. Why did a chill run down her back?

“St. Vincent’s Dower Orphanage,” he said simply.

A wave of dizziness came over her. All of the fight drained out of her. She closed her eyes, refusing to look at the triumphant glimmering in his.

He picked up a folder sitting on a nearby chair and threw it on her lap. Inside were pictures of children and teachers walking from one building to another. Their smiling faces shining up for the photographer to take a shot.

Included was the orphanage’s budget with several lines of the most sizable donations highlighted. The name Olivia Roth Foundation was quite prominent on the columns. How did he know? No way could he search her cover name in one day. They’d been working on this for months. Her stomach turned. She swallowed. She’d only used the name Roth during her off time, never tied to her work. And there were several orphanages named after Saint Vincent.

The orphanage where she’d lived the first ten years of her life after the authorities plucked her out of a trash bin averaged an infant a month without a surname. The Mother Superior believed using a saint’s name helped the child to stay on the righteous path. When Olivia was brought to St. Vincent’s, it had been a cold January morning, the day after the blessed saint’s day. Little good her name did her.

“I don’t have to tell you, if we notified the authorities about your contributions, you know what would happen. The government frowns on organizations that receive money from known illegal activities. They’ll shut the place down. Many of the children would be placed in less desirable facilities,” he warned in a cold, hard voice.

She covered her eyes. Her body felt as if she was on a runaway roller coaster. They had her. She’d never jeopardize the orphanage. Because of her money, they could afford food, clothing, and a good education for the children, and just as important, the proper staff to search backgrounds on the couples coming to adopt or willing to foster.

She dropped her hand. “Okay.” She didn’t give a damn if he saw the tears pooling in her eyes. “Just remember, if anything happens to the orphanage or anyone involved with it, all deals are off and I’ll kill your ass. I’ll not rest until your whole organization is destroyed, person by person. So what do you want?”

Her stomach rolled again with the thought of what would happen to the orphanage for sure if she refused. She tried to ignore the throbbing above her right temple.

He eyed her for a few seconds. “First, you’ll follow orders without question. Second, you’ll fill us in with all the work you’ve done since being recruited by The Circle eight years ago. Third . . .” His voice changed to a buzzing in her head. Frustrated with his long list as she wanted him to go away, she resisted the temptation to close her eyes and sleep. “. . . sixth, you—”

Holding up her hand, she interrupted him just as a pinprick of pain shot into her skull. “Wait! You’re giving me a fucking headache.” She’d never been good at taking orders.

He stared at her, probably trying to figure out her angle. Only this time, she was telling the truth. A massive headache had hit about the time he’d finished saying “fifth.”

Maybe it was the drug he’d used or the hit she’d took, but the bright sharp pain nagged at her to throw up and she wasn’t sure how much he would like his shiny black loafers after she finished with them. Maybe the green tint of her face gave it away, but he handed her a gray plastic pan just in time.

Talk about embarrassing. How could she be sexy and dangerous and threatening when he’d seen her throw up her guts? Vomiting like a little wimpy girl.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the pillows. In seconds a cool cloth landed on her forehead. Cracking one eye open, she found him watching her with consternation. He handed her a small paper cup filled with a blue mouthwash. After a quick swirl in her mouth she spit it out into a new clean pan. Who would ever guess the head of the OS made a decent nurse?

When would the embarrassment ever end? She hated being weak in front of the enemy. What had he expected after all he’d put her through?

“Hey, quit looking at me like that. I’m human. Anyone would be sick after . . . ah, hell, leave me alone.”

Unable to take any more of his dark eyes measuring her, and her coming up short, she turned her back to him, hugging herself and bringing her knees up, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Sleep and we’ll talk later,” he said as she heard his footsteps move away.

She hoped sleep would come and give her a break from the pain. Between her head and bruised and aching body, it was no wonder she was sick. Maybe the drug still in her system would keep the night-terrors away. It had before. Then again, she never gambled for a reason. She always lost.

T
he nightmare started as it always did. She was playing on the floor with her one and only baby doll in the middle of a large room. Sunshine streaming through a tall window warmed her cheeks.

A shadowy figure walked into the room, towering over her, blocking the sun. In a booming voice, he said, “You’re too old to play with dolls. Come with me, child. I got a more interesting toy for you to play with.”

He grabbed her arm and lifted her until only her toes reached the floor as he marched toward a door with bluish light emitting around the edges. She knew if she let him take her into the room, he would hurt her. But no matter how much she screamed, scratched, or kicked, he still opened the door and threw her inside. His high-pitched laughter bounced against the walls. She could beg him not to hurt her again but she knew he would.

Please don’t. Please. Please stop.

“Olivia, wake up.”

Her eyes popped open at the same time her right hand shot out, lower palm forward, stopping an inch from shoving Collin’s nose into his skull. He’d grabbed her wrist.

“Careful. You were asking someone to stop.” The concern in his voice she didn’t need or want.

“You know, you’re no prince charming, but I would hate to accidentally kill you. I have a feeling Big Foot would object and then I would have to kick his fat ass.”

One eyebrow lifted. “Fat ass, uh?”

She wiggled to a sitting position after he released his hold. When a little sting on her arm caught her attention, she looked down. A new red dot on her skin explained why her headache had faded away. They’d shot her up with something. She hoped that was all they’d done while she’d been out. “By the way, you’ve got a bad habit of waking me up.”

Though he didn’t smile, a little crinkle at the corners of his eyes told her he liked her spunk. That was interesting. No concern about her almost killing him or threatening his buddy. Was he already so sure of her? Maybe she could use that to her advantage.

“What do you want?” she asked. Had he stayed with her the whole time she slept? “How long was I out?”

She stretched, lifting her arms above her head and pressing her toes against the covers.

His eyes flared amber. She liked that. Responding to her was good. Hell, it was only fair. He was quite aware of her response to him.

“You’ve been asleep for a couple hours.” He folded his arms. “And not a restful sleep at all.” One dark eyebrow lifted.

So he wanted to know what she’d dreamed. No way. How often had she tried to forget after waking? She wasn’t like most people, forgetting as soon as she opened her eyes. Boy, that would be nice. Considering she’d actually lived the nightmare that made it harder to forget.

Finally coming to the conclusion she wasn’t about to explain, he picked up a large camo bag and handed it to her.

“Get dressed. Time for you to start earning your keep.”

“How about a shower? Toothbrush? Hair brush? You get the idea.” Her mouth tasted like an old shoe and she bet her hair looked like a stack of straw.

“You’ll find everything you need in your room. I’ll take you there as soon as you get your clothes on.”

Before she could say anything about privacy, he walked into the hall, closing the door behind him.

Well, that was easy. Of course, she was stuck in a room without windows, and she had a good feeling the next room he placed her in would be no different. The bag had a pair of her sweatpants she used to exercise in and a sports bra for running. No thong. His choices were rather fascinating. Or was she over-examining everything?

She glanced at the door and jumped off the bed. A wave of dizziness forced her to hold the footboard until she regained her balance. Then she slithered into the sweatpants, jerked off the hospital gown—ugly thing—and pulled on the bra. She wasn’t surprised to see him walk in no sooner than she finished. In vain, she ran her fingers through her hair, patting down the strands.

“Lead the way, master,” she quipped.

“I prefer sir.” He looked serious, not a grin or flare of amber to tell her different.

Sir, huh? Yeah, right, like that would ever happen.

She watched his tight ass move down the hallway. Tight and uptight. Did the guy ever let loose? He stopped in front of elevator doors and pressed the down button.

As she stepped into the car, the red numbers overhead dropped quickly until they passed G and started with B numbers. It finally rested at B10. Where were they? Hell? She’d already been there once and had plenty of souvenirs etched onto her body to prove it.

Of course, he already knew that.

Whatever he dished out, she would protect the orphanage. She’d endured before, and compared to Theo, Mr. Uptight was a walk in the park.

Chapter Four

T
he elevator paused and a red light bathed the small enclosure before the doors opened.

Grinning at the thought, Olivia stepped out. Ten? She still couldn’t believe the size of the building hidden beneath the street level.

Within feet from the metal doors, a large open area revealed soft natural-colored walls with plants and a waterfall tinkling into a small pool focused in the center. Each step as she followed Collin revealed overstuffed chairs in little nooks, perfect for small-group meetings, and two exercise rooms with what looked like a cafeteria in between.

“What is this? A spa?”

As she expected, he ignored her question and turned into a short hallway. Beautiful, expensive looking artwork hung at the end of the hall. They stopped in front of a steel door that wouldn’t look out of place in a prison. He punched a long list of numbers into the stainless steel keypad and a series of clicks emitted from the lock. The door swung open. He stepped to the side and waited for her to enter first.

“It’s your new home,” he said.

Go figure.

She walked into a spacious living room. The flashing red lights in each corner warned her of cameras watching her every move. She wondered how many more were hidden. An apartment tastefully furnished with 24/7 surveillance.

Collin stood back as she examined the kitchen and the archway leading to a bath and bedroom. With each step, her blood pressure rose. Flushed and sick to her stomach, she hoped she was wrong until she noticed the small chip on a corner of the coffee table. It was her furniture. The entire apartment was filled with her personal effects. Sure he’d told her they had gotten her things. But she’d thought clothes, makeup, maybe even her deodorant but not everything.

“My clothes
and
my furniture?” She paused in her examination. “Why?”

“We want you to be comfortable.”

“More like that you hoped I would stay, refusing to leave my possessions behind.” She suspected material things would never stop him from escaping.

“Maybe.”

Furious and trapped, she stood in the middle of the room with her hands on hips. How had he known the odds and ends she’d collected over the years represented her home? Her first home.

She threw back her head and blinked several times. Dammit. A red glow caught her attention. She hated the beady little lights taunting her from every angle.

“How did you get through my security system?” Her gaze narrowed onto him.

“Nic had a hell of a time. Who set up the security at your house?” Collin sat in the middle of her couch, placing an ankle on one knee and stretching his arms along the back.

“I did.” She’d worked months getting the traps set. Anyone who broke in would regret it pretty quick.

He cocked his head. “You keep surprising me.”

“What did you think I was? All brawn and no brain?” She wasn’t some killing machine. It took organization and intellect to set up the hits and get away unseen. Her handler told her who to hit but never the details to accomplish it. “I’m astonished they didn’t blow it up.”

“Four are in the hospital.” Though he said it with an even voice, she detected worry in his eyes.

Uncomfortable with the thought, she wandered through the room, picking up a knick-knack she’d purchased in Singapore and rearranged it on the end table. Then she wiped off dust from a candy dish she’d picked up in Chicago and straightened a figurine from London, all mementos from her work. She felt his gaze following her the whole time.

Unable to resist, she looked toward the sofa. He watched her with cold eyes, assessing and finding her wanting.

She crossed her arms and rested a hip on the edge of her Carpathian wood desk. “What now?”

His jaw shifted as he stared at her. Only the tick-tock of her grandfather clock broke the silence.

Well, hell. What was he mad about now? She replayed their conversation and sighed. Why should she be concerned about his people? Their success with breaking into her home meant she had to live in the OS building for now. If . . . no . . .
when
she escaped, she would find a way to retrieve her things with or without his cooperation. Besides, she hadn’t asked to be taken and sure as hell hadn’t asked for them to invade her house. From what she’d seen, no children worked for the OS, so they were all adults and well aware of what they were getting into.

“Okay.” She rolled her eyes. “Were they damaged badly?” She had difficulties in being compassionate.

“Damaged,” he muttered beneath his breath in disbelief and then said clearly, “They’ll live.”

She shifted to another hip on the desk edge. Why should she care that he looked disappointed with her? She cared about the orphans at St. Vincent and he was using it against her.

“Listen, I don’t know what you expect. You’ve got me where you want me figuratively and literally. By controlling me through your threat about the orphanage, you’ve proved attachments of any kind are dangerous in our line of work.” She mentally shook her head. He’d shown her how she’d grown attached to more than she realized.

Hell, she was now explaining herself to him. Why did she care so much what he thought of her? She stood and paced across her antique rug from Turkey. She refused to explain anything she did to anyone. One of the best ways to live a long life as an eliminator for The Circle was to keep her mouth shut. This time her life depended on her talking.

She wiped her hands down the sides of her sweats. Tall, dark, and handsome hadn’t commented on her ramblings. The only emotion she caught on his face besides disappointment was interest. At least she had that, his interest in her body, though he fought it by snapping at her. It was obvious each time his gaze followed her around the room. His attraction toward her might help in her escape.

“Excuse me while I shower.” She turned and pulled off the back of her sports bra and looked over her shoulder at Collin. “Want to join me?”

When he remained on the couch, his eyes half-closed in contemplation, she shrugged. “Well, come in if you change your mind. If you don’t, your loss.”

W
hat was she up to? The look she gave him before announcing her shower warned she was planning to use him somehow.

Collin stared at the hallway long after he heard the water running. The tightness in his groin frustrated him. He needed his mind clear while dealing with her.

From their research, he learned that Olivia had lived at the same orphanage until age ten when a woman fostered her. None of the papers explained why the orphanage waited so late. Even after papers were filed for the woman to adopt her at age twelve, they never followed through. Olivia’s foster mother died and no explanation provided why the woman’s brother was given permission to take Olivia. By the time the orphanage reported the woman’s death and the sequential questionable guardianship to social services, Olivia was fourteen and a runaway.

The last bit of information they scraped together pointed to The Circle recruiting her at eighteen. What she did to survive for four years, he could only imagine. The woman was a survivor.

He dug into his pocket as his phone vibrated, irritating the hell out of him because he didn’t need another problem. Maybe he should be thankful the reminder of his duty to the OS eased his hard-on. At the same time, a knock brought his attention to the view panel next to the door.

Rex grinned into the camera and raised his middle finger.

Phone to his ear, Collin strode over to the door and keyed in the code. His second in command eyed the living room with unease and slid into a chair across from Collin. He jerked to look behind him as if Olivia planned to jump out and attack.

Collin nodded toward the hallway, letting Rex know where Olivia was as he resumed listening to one of his handlers describe a clash between OS and Circle operatives.

Rex lifted his chin in understanding and continued checking out the room while seated. He wrinkled his nose in distaste, waiting for Collin to finish his conversation. With a snap, Collin closed his cell phone and looked questioningly at Rex. The man hated Olivia and would never come into her apartment willingly.

“What’s going on?”

“Word has reached The Circle that you’re responsible for Olivia’s disappearance. They’re beginning to doubt you killed her.”

Collin glanced at the hallway and back to his friend. “You know what that means.”

“Yeah. We’ve got an infiltrator.” Rex stretched his long legs out and crossed them at the ankles. “I’ve got Nic checking to see if they’re sending messages out through the Internet or freestanding micros.”

“Good. I’d hoped we would have a little more time.” He needed her fully encamped and questioned about every tidbit of information she possessed of The Circle.

“Collin . . .” Rex’s hesitation pissed Collin off. When did his second in command hold back? Was everyone so certain he couldn’t handle the woman?

“Spit it out.” He gritted his teeth to keep from saying more.

“I know you examined her but could she be sending messages?”

Collin stood and walked over to the hallway. The humming of a blow-dryer assured him Olivia wouldn’t hear.

“I examined her thoroughly twice and Dr. Shelton once. She’s clean. We’ve checked under her skin and in all of her possessions for GPS micros or anything used for communications.” His body tightened with the memories of touching her body, all in the name of security.

“I know you thought of everything, but I’ve never seen you so wrapped up with taking on a Circle operative like her. There are several operatives capable of handling her. She’s deadly and we need you elsewhere.” Rex inhaled deep as if he expected to be roundly reamed.

“What happened to Jack won’t happen to me.” Collin hated to bring it up especially when his words drained the color from Rex’s face. “Maybe one day we’ll get all the specifics from her about Jack and Abby. Until that time, she’s needed. She’s the key to bringing down The Circle.”

Rex jumped to his feet. “Don’t you think I don’t know that?” He stomped to the door and placed his palm against the steel, bowing his head. “You’re like a brother to me. I hate to see her sinking her claws into you too. She fooled Jack. Few were better than him. We all know she set up Abby.”

No one deserved to live in the pain Rex did every day. For a man to lose his fiancée, the woman he planned to love and cherish forever, mere months before their wedding had redefined his thoughts of a happy ever after. Collin stopped behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. The big man’s body shook.

“I’ll be careful.” Collin leaned to the side and punched in the door code. “Go and get things ready. Three months and then we’ll activate the plan.”

When the door clicked closed behind Rex, Collin turned to see Olivia reclining on the couch with a white robe wrapped around her. Her bare toes painted a pink. They’d been red before.

“Why three months? And what’s the plan?” she asked.

Absent of makeup, her face looked younger. Then he remembered her file had said she was twenty-eight. Considering the difficult life she’d led, it stood to reason why she acted older, more cynical than most people her age.

“You need to be briefed on our policies. Then we’ll test you to see what skills you possess and the best way to utilize them.” He watched one corner of her mouth quirk up as she tried to hold back the smile. “What’s so funny?”

“You.” She gave up the struggle and grinned big. “All your policies, testing, and utilizing. Why don’t you talk like a regular person? And tell me in plain English what you want?” She raised one knee and the robe parted, exposing a long, smooth length of gentle muscled thigh to trim ankle. His hands itched to clasp her legs around his neck again and rejoice in the taste and heat of her body.

Relaxed and smiling up at him, she revealed her true danger. Her sex appeal. Deep inside he’d realized he held an intense attraction to her. But for now, at the beginning of her training, he needed to keep her at arm’s length to a certain degree, holding himself away from her like a carrot in front of a donkey. He studied her face. If she could read his thoughts, he would be dead for comparing her to a donkey.

She turned on her stomach, arms folded across the armrest, chin on top, looking at him with a poignant softness. Though she appeared all sweetness and femininity, he knew she was lethal. What method would she use to kill him? Her hand slammed into his nose, shoving bone and cartilage through his skull, killing him instantly? Or debilitating him with a hand to his crotch and then a twist of his neck? The latter took strength or skill. While she’d been handcuffed to the bed, he’d experienced firsthand the well-trained muscles defined beneath her silky skin. She had many deadly skills.

In the business of training some of the most dangerous people in the world, he’d used every method possible to bond the individual to the organization. Over the years, he’d trained only two top operatives personally, leaving the others to the normal process, and neither had been as dangerous as Olivia. Plus the intimate bonding with the earlier operatives had never lasted longer than the six-month training, even though they remained friends.

With his gaze lingering on her, she stood and shrugged, dropping the robe to the floor.

“You were staring at me so intently that I figured you wanted to see me naked again.” She bent a knee, placing her bare foot against the other ankle and lifting her breasts like an offering.

His cock sprang to attention. He wanted to take her on the floor, thrust into the hot depths of her body he’d tasted and remembered so well. One step, then another brought him close enough to smell her. The ordinary light flowery scents of soap and shampoo all women indulged in contradicted what he knew about her. No ordinary woman could hold an eighteen-pound sniper rifle, much less shoot one. Perversely the thought had his cock weeping for her touch.

He leaned over; his shoulder skimmed her hip. His mouth mere inches from the place he wanted to return to, he inhaled the faint musk of her arousal. Her sharp intake of breath satisfied his inner demon. Always good to know she wanted him as badly. He picked up the robe and placed it on her shoulders. He swept her hair from beneath the robe and brushed his fingers across a high cheekbone.