Trained for Seduction Page 2

  She believed she might barf and pass out, that’s what she believed. “Please?”

  “Fine.”

  ****

  Chase Sanders drove back to the office, taking a more leisurely route than the highway, so he could think. Kate Wells had made him think about quite a bit in the last year.

  Before meeting her as Emma, he had thoroughly loved his job. Now he wasn’t so sure. A year ago he would have never believed in love at first sight. If someone had told him he would fall in love with a certain virgin, he would have shot them dead sniper-style, picking them out of a crowded room, off a busy street. He didn’t fall in love. He was done with love.

  But seeing Emma—no, Kate—again, being close enough to touch her, for her to realize who he was, had definitely shaken that premise out of the tree.

  The sexual attraction was still there. His cock had hardened immediately as he watched her work out with Jake, which was pretty damned unusual. Work and women didn’t mix. Period. But his dick had forgotten that rule as blood rushed through his veins, filling the one part of him that didn’t need to notice her.

  Notice wasn’t accurate—enamored was more like it, which pissed him off. Usually his mind hummed with work, information that flowed in his subconscious like a river of knowledge. But the river became muddied when he thought of how good she looked. Lean yet curvy, her lips soft, inviting, even while frowning.

  She’d smelled damned good considering the workout Jake had given her. Floral, with just a hint of salt as she had stood before him, so unsure. Her gaze had devoured him, terrified but so damned turned on. And fuck if he hadn’t wanted to take her right there, in front of Jake, to finish what they had started a year ago.

  Chase stopped the vehicle, waiting as the construction mess ahead sorted itself out. His phone dinged—a text coming in. He picked up his phone and sighed. Jake.

  Jake lived for texting, and Chase would often go days without seeing him but get a zillion texts filled with shards of Jake-isms. Chase hated texting, spelling crap out, finding punctuation—he hated punctuation. He usually just picked up the phone and bitched at whomever. Plus, he had a sixth sense about things, and it was hard to tell if Jake was slacking off in a text or e-mail. He knew right away on the phone.

  Chase wouldn’t admit it, but those texts were high points in his boring day, even the ones Jake sent him in the midst of meetings Chase was leading. Usually he sent SFB—so fucking boring, or same fucking bullshit. Chase was allowed to interpret the meaning of the day. Jake was his link to the outside world, a world he liked far better than the one he lived in now.

  Jake’s text read: My little bundle of TNT won’t meet with you unless I can stay. I’ll bring her in and dump her at reception. Helen won’t let her bolt.

  Jake gave everyone a name of some sort. Except Chase—he was just the boss. Chase gave a sharp laugh and replied, TNT? Insensitive to shock and friction, is she?

  But he found it hard to believe Jake would nickname a meek thing like her after explosives, despite her calling in the lab, working with bombs. Then again, he didn’t see her as Jake did. When he thought of Kate, he saw her either as Emma, trembling and aroused, or as Kate, broken and near death in her hospital bed.

  While she had fought for her life, Chase had petitioned to make her an agent, her genius brains and the scientific skills she’d learned at her father’s hand enough to con his bosses. He had sat with her every night in the hospital as she recovered from the plane crash, then the surgeries, always leaving before she woke. She never knew it was him holding her hand, and he had planned to keep it that way.

  Jake shot back, I wouldn’t know how she responds to friction since your dick was inside her. I would assume she’s blown your mind since you didn’t share the 411.

  Chase snorted. Nothing happened

  That wasn’t true. He’d had a sweet run to third base, got knocked out, and then sat on the bench because he’d fucked up. His ego hated him for it. He was former military, sniper-trained, a member of elite forces at one time. He now ran a spur division of secret agents seeking intelligence to benefit the American government. Who knocked him unconscious? Not a sweet, pretty virgin with no training whatsoever.

  But she had, and then she had run away, fucking up his mission, nearly blowing his cover as a business associate purchasing bomb making skills for a small country in the former USSR, and getting him into a whole heap of trouble with his bosses. Chase never screwed up. Never. Until then, that is.

  He’d set his men on her, Jake included. How long would it take to track her down, a civilian? Forty-eight hours, max. But it had taken him a month because she was so damned smart, so crafty that she had fooled him, eluding capture at every turn, always a step ahead of him.

  Finally one of her father’s men had found a small piece of information that had connected the dots, but when Chase had sent in an agent, her father had gotten there already, and she was on a plane, en route to D.C.

  Before the plane landed, he had made arrangements with her father. The crazy bastard had wanted to offer her as a bargaining tool to sweeten the arms deal. When he realized how sick the man was, Chase had feared for her life and had basically purchased her from him. It was that easy, that sick. That sad. But then her plane had crashed, her father had died, and suddenly she was his responsibility, collateral damage from his failed mission.

  Jake texted again. So you want coffee? I’m going to try a latte.

  This isn’t a social engagement. Chase sighed. Parts of him wished it were a date. And he didn’t date. What happened to espresso?

  Kate thinks it makes me surly.

  Chase rolled his eyes. How could one hundred thirty pounds of blonde bombshell turn his buddy into a puddle of mush? Especially when she wasn’t fucking him. Since when do you care what a woman thinks?

  Since she makes you use punctuation in texts. She can also blow me to kingdom come, and I don’t mean the fun way.

  Yes, Kate was lethal now, a far cry from mousy Emma, though Emma had been just as deadly with the C-4. From afar, Chase had watched her morph from the terrified yet aroused woman in his bed into an incredibly hot killing machine. The plastic surgery didn’t do a thing for him, though. He’d found her attractive before they changed a single cell on her body.

  But he loved how scary smart she was, as Jake would say. He had watched from monitors as she schooled their bomb technician on his shortcomings, and then proceeded to show him exactly what he had done wrong, with long words, chemical names, and diagrams written in Japanese. He would have taken her then and there, if she knew he existed.

  She was as smart as he was accurate behind a sniper rifle and it made him almost come in his pants, knowing her mind worked so quickly. She could wire his office, his car, even his pen with a bomb and kill him without giving him a single clue, yet leave no collateral damage. She was that good.

  There weren’t many women he felt were an equal to his skills, and her equality turned him on, made him so hot that he couldn’t think, feel, and had sworn off all other women until he could make sense of her.

  Chase turned into the parking complex and then into his parking space, his heart hammering a mile a minute. Unfortunately, the bosses above him had discovered through their very thorough physical examination that she lacked experience. He never thought his job would demand he find a way to get her laid. Who the hell was a virgin at twenty-five? But she was, and they wanted it taken care of before her first mission in a few weeks.

  He had given her to Jake as a partner, hoping nature would take its course and he’d bed her. Of course she shot Jake down at every turn, which surprised him. And gave him hope. Women didn’t turn Jake down. Period. But a part of Chase selfishly wondered if she dreamed of a certain Alexander Bishop finally scoring the home run of his life.

  Still, Chase had to know, so he could make the appropriate plans. You still haven’t scored with her yet?

  Nope. But now I know why.

  Why? Chase wanted to know,
because this should have been Jake’s feather in his cap. Not his. You going to share why?

  Nope. The package is en route. With coffee.

  Fuck. That meant he was up to bat. But secretly, he had never wanted his turn more. Ever.

  The upcoming mission they had her slated for made him uneasy. The powers-that-be were so eager to get this target, to complete the objective they would do just about anything, even if it meant sacrificing Kate.

  He wouldn’t allow that. Not only because he loved her, but because she was a member of his team. Okay, definitely because he loved her. He loved her smile, her wit, the way she shot down Jake’s advances. He loved her, and though he fought it, he was the man to get her laid.

  He just wished he was the man who could make her dreams come true. But he was her boss, she was a spy, and their love would never work.

  Chapter Two

  “It will be just another moment, dear,” Chase’s secretary said.

  Kate looked up from the chair outside his office and immediately tasted bile in the back of her throat. She felt like she was ready to enter the lair of the devil, one who already owned her soul. Jake had deposited her in the office, telling her she would be amazing and to text him when she was done. Jerk.

  Of course, the devil bastard had made her wait for fifteen minutes. She hated mental games like this, and as much as she told herself that she had the advantage mentally, she knew she didn’t. The devil was always in control.

  “Nervous?” the secretary asked with a sweet smile. She was older, in her fifties, and looked motherly.

  “Yes. Immensely.” Kate swallowed, glanced at the door, and back at the secretary. “I don’t think he likes me very much.”

  “Chase comes off as a bear at times, but he’s a good man,” she said, cocking her head. Then she nodded, as if she remembered something. “I think he likes you more than he’d like to admit.”

  “Why do you think that?” Kate blinked. She’d never met him before, not in this capacity. No one had ever mentioned him, except Jake, and that was only as a friend. So why the hell would he like her?

  The secretary smiled a knowing smile. “I’m sure he’ll be with you in a moment.”

  Kate frowned and the door to his office opened, but at the angle she was at, she couldn’t see the poor soul who had to suffer his presence. A peal of feminine laughter floated out, joined by Chase’s deeper laugh. My, the devil has a sense of humor.

  “We’ll do lunch next week, love. What day works for you?” the woman asked in a crisp, English accent.

  Kate didn’t hear Chase’s response, but the woman laughed again. Obviously, the devil could be charming, too. “I’m game for whatever you want to do. Text me.”

  The woman exited, and her violet gaze met Kate’s envious one. English was tall, model thin, and beautiful, with gorgeous deep red hair, the type of woman that would work ratty sweats like a supermodel. Exactly the type of woman a man like Chase Sanders would wear on his arm like eye candy.

  But she didn’t care about that, did she?

  English smiled and gestured to his office. “You can go in, love. He’s waiting.”

  “Thanks.” Kate rose, wiped her hands on her thighs, and went in to find Chase going through a stack of papers, intent on his work.

  “Come in. Sit,” Chase commanded, no longer jovial or charming, like he’d been with the English chick. But his voice sounded more distracted than angry, so maybe she had English to thank. She set the coffee down on his desk and sat as instructed in one of the two chairs before his desk. She folded her hands on her lap to keep them from shaking.

  Finally, Chase stopped shuffling. He took a sip of coffee and nodded. Then he sat back, and focused his very intent, dark gaze on her. He sat so still as he drank her in, his features perfect, and she felt like a deer in the headlights.

  This man had every right to be pissed. She had kicked him in the ego, and though she believed he deserved every bit of the trouble he suffered afterwards, he didn’t deserve the pounding headache he had to have experienced the next day.

  Jake had warned her about that stare. The mask of doom. She had to set him on edge, but somehow, she didn’t think she would get the chance to head-butt him again.

  Finally, she could take the silence no longer.

  “I’m sorry,” she blurted out, unable to keep the words back. “I really didn’t mean to knock you out. I’m sure you’re angry about it.”

  “My ego is angry, but for the most part, I’ve gotten over it.” He folded his hands on his desk, a slow, deliberate movement. She could almost hear the hounds of hell being unleashed. “Why did you run?”

  The hostility she’d bottled up over the past year supercharged through her veins, and suddenly she believed she held a little TNT in her heart, somewhere. He was pissed? Well, so was she. “You know why I ran.”

  “I read what the debriefing had to say.” He shoved the file at her—her file. “You don’t remember right before the plane crashed, but you must remember why you ran.”

  “I know what you did, damn you.” She snorted. “I lied to them when I said I didn’t remember. I remember everything my father had to say to me before the plane crashed, and I believe he said something about a certain Alexander Bishop paying a million dollars for my virginity.”

  He had the decency to wince. “I feared for your safety. I was trying to get him to turn you over to me. Once you were in custody, we were going to make the deal, and the bust, and then you would have been stowed away, safely, in witness protection.”

  Still, he had bought her, like she was baggage. Only now she waited to see when he’d step up to claim her. “Things didn’t work out as planned, did they?”

  “No, no they didn’t.”

  She looked around the office. It was nice, one she’d expect of a man of his level, all dark wood with a leather sofa behind her. “So you’re my boss. What do I call you? Master, egotistical bastard…”

  The ghost of a smile played at his fine lips. The mask Jake warned her about had slipped some, and he suddenly wasn’t so imposing. “Chase works.”

  “You had me fooled, you know. I thought you were some European businessman, with a wife and kids, looking for a good time.” She glared. “How old are you, anyway?”

  “Thirty. Tomorrow, thirty-one. They aged me some for the mission.”

  “They do that?”

  “You’d be surprised what they do.” Chase shuffled papers and then sighed. “I have to apologize as well. I had no clue what your father had done to you. I had told him it was my birthday the next day, he made a phone call, and he smiled. Later, he said there was a surprise in my room. I thought you had delivered it, or perhaps you were attracted to me and you were my present, and you’d come to my room on your own. I didn’t know until I came to. I wouldn’t have raped you. I thought you were a willing participant.”

  “You have women wait for you like that in your room often?”

  He hesitated, looking away.

  She shook her head in disgust. She thought of the English chick and wondered if she waited in his room for him, too. “Being that attractive can be an occupational hazard. Must be hard for you.”

  “Sometimes.” He tossed a packet on the desk in front of her. “This is yours. A bank account in your new name. When your father died, his will left everything to you. Since Emma is dead, I had connections move the funds to this account. There is also a passport and other information all in your new name.”

  She opened the packet and looked inside at the bank balance. “My God, I’m rich.” She knew she was rich. She’d managed her father’s accounts since she was twelve. But one didn’t fuel the devil’s intellect.

  “Yes, you are rich. You’ll be paid, of course, for work. And for your job as a scientist when you’re not on a mission. Money has already been direct deposited. The contracts are included. I’m sure they went over what the terms were?”

  “Oh, yes. They were quite clear.” She didn’t bother to look at th
ose. She was their slave for ten years, or she could serve time in prison. Lucky, lucky her.

  He nodded. “I can help you purchase a home or whatever accommodations you would require. For now, I’ll make you hotel reservations.”

  She glanced up at him. She couldn’t picture him house hunting. With her. “Is that part of your job?”

  “Yes. Well, making sure it gets done is part of my job.”

  She looked back at another certificate—her new birth certificate. They had changed her birth date—she and Alex—no, Chase—no longer shared the same birthday.

  “You’ll need to memorize this new information. Any new information—social security numbers, passports, other identification—will be issued at the onset of each assignment. For now, you are just Kate.”

  Just Kate…

  Chase leafed through the stack of papers and handed her a folder. “I need to know if your father ever had anything to do with this man. If he was a business associate. Hell, if he carried your groceries for you, cleaned your pool, I need to know that, too.”

  “No, never.” The man in the photo was in his thirties, of Middle Eastern decent and very attractive. “May I look further?” He gave her a nod as if to say, be my guest, and she leafed through the folder. She flipped the page over and tapped a sentence. “This translation is wrong.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “This translation, here.” She pointed to the page written in Arabic on the back, with translations underneath each line. “It’s wrong. Here, too.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I can read Arabic.” And then she realized she hadn’t disclosed that information because Chase froze, becoming like stone. She doubted he even breathed in the seconds he took to process her lie.

  Not a good way to start a work relationship. She sighed. “Since I’m guessing this, as Jake would say, is a very bad man who will soon be a part of my future, I wanted you to know your facts are wrong. I don’t want to get killed.”