Love and Let Die (Masters and Mercenaries #5)(31)

“I have contacts. It’s fine. You’re in my chair.” Ian frowned down at her.

She gracefully stood. “Of course, Master.”

Ian tossed his big body into the chair and flipped open his laptop. “I have Simon working on who took that shot, but I need you to keep your head down. He’ll try again.”

So he wasn’t going to toss her out. Wasn’t that interesting? It would have been the easiest thing to let the police take her. Once she was in the system, it wouldn’t be long before someone came calling. There were several governments who would love to get their hands on her. He wouldn’t ever have to deal with her again. So he’d made his choice.

But then she’d made hers, too. She would deeply prefer to stay with Ian and that meant following protocol. She sank to her knees. “Yes, he will try again and likely soon. Zhukov is very impatient. I guess they’ve decided to cut their losses and take me out.”

She let her head sink onto his lap, the way she used to. He could sit for hours just petting her while he worked. It seemed to soothe him. For those hours she could let her thoughts drift because she was safe. She’d been able to daydream, and every thought had been about him.

She sighed and rubbed her cheek against his thigh and almost immediately felt his quick and sure interest.

But his whole body went utterly still, like a rattlesnake had wrapped itself around him, coiled and ready to strike. “Charlie? Would you like to tell me what you’re doing?”

Getting her husband back. “You think better with a sub at your feet.”

“I’ve never had a f*cking sub at my…” Ian stopped. “You should get up now.”

He’d never had a sub at his feet but he’d had a wife there. Just her. Only her. She had to remind him just how good it could be between them. She’d noticed that he’d brought the lemon donuts in with him. He needed her. He was so rigid. He didn’t allow himself anything, not even comfort. She’d grown to truly understand this man. Despite the fact that he came off like a big bad take-nothing-from-no-one Dom, he was actually a service-oriented top. It was what no one at the club she’d met him at understood. Ian needed to serve his sub, to meet her needs before his own were met. It was why he hadn’t taken the time to explain to Grace how he liked his coffee made. If he did that, if she changed her ways for him, he would owe her. He didn’t like to owe anyone.

But he did believe in the power exchange.

“I was very scared, Mast…Ian.” She didn’t need to push at this point. She just needed him in the right frame of mind. She let her eyes drift up. His hand was moving, carrying the lemon donut to his mouth. He was enjoying the treat she’d bought for him. He would enjoy this, too, if she just phrased it in the proper way. “Could I just have a few moments? It would relax me. I feel like I’m on the verge of tears, and I know how you hate them.”

He groaned a little. “You don’t have tear ducts, Charlie.”

Not true. She’d cried more over him in the last five years than she’d cried in all the years before. He held the key to her emotions. When she’d met him, it had been years since she allowed herself the release of tears. She couldn’t help herself. She rubbed her cheek against his thigh again, reveling in being so close to him.

He didn’t touch her. In the past he would have petted her head, his palm stroking her softly as he worked. But there was nothing from him now.

Then again, he didn’t toss her out on her ass. It was progress.

A long moment passed where she heard him sigh and tentatively relax into his chair. Even his muscles seemed to uncoil and accept the situation.

“What do you know about Eli Nelson?” There was the sound of his coffee mug scraping against the desk as he sat it down again.

A dangerous question, but one she had to answer.

“I can send you the file I have on him, but it’s spotty at best. I can tell you that he’s involved with my uncle.”

Ian used his sarcastic grunt this time. “Does that really surprise you? You stole money from both of them. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that. It only made sense that they would help each other out.”

She really hated her uncle. Mikhail Denisovitch had been her father’s right hand man. She had a couple of cousins who had been okay, but they were still syndicate men. She had no doubt they would kill her on sight if they had to. It wouldn’t matter that they’d hung out together and laughed. Denisovitch men were loyal to the syndicate first and blood later.

“I know he’s met with my uncle a few times. I’m sure he claims he found the information that I was the one who hired the assassin. He didn’t do it himself, of course. I have no doubt everything looks perfect. The man knows how to set a woman up.”

The tension was back in his legs. Damn. She shouldn’t have mentioned that. His voice was a low rumble. “Yes, he certainly does.”

She needed to get him thinking about the present. “He knows what he’s doing and how to stay off the radar. Most of what I’ve learned is because his contacts f*cked up. It’s almost never him. In the beginning I got a ton of info, and when I would follow it through, he was waiting there to try to take me out.”

“How do you know the Indian lead isn’t the same thing?”

She’d wondered about it. “I don’t, but it doesn’t follow his pattern. No one can really cover every bit of his trail these days. There are too many CCTV cameras. I think that’s why he left England.”