“We can’t search the house.” Bastian crossed his arms and stared at her, unable to believe she’d suggest something so ridiculous, especially after her scare with Drugov earlier.

“Why not?” Brie asked. “It’s what we came here for.” She fiddled with one of his pins and pursed her lips.

“Um, it’s dangerous?” His brow furrowed. The problem had to be the uniform. Mess blue wasn’t intimidating like his ACUs. No way would she be able to face him down if he was in full camo. Instead, she saw the bow tie and ribbons and figured he was like the other guys here, who she could manipulate with batted eyes.

Did her eyes have to be so beautiful? And when she wore that dark makeup, it turned them all smoky and hot. Thank God she hadn’t had makeup in South Sudan, or he’d have been screwed.

He got a grip. He was telling her why they couldn’t go off on a Lawiri hunt. “If one of Drugov’s goons finds us, they won’t be nice about it.”

“There’s a light meal being served in the teal dining room. We’ll wander that way, like we plan to eat, then slip into the adjacent dining room and make our way upstairs. A door in the back wall of all the dining rooms leads to a servant hall, where we’ll find a staircase.”

“How do you know this?”

“When I was in my teens, we stayed at our villa a lot. My dad and Drugov’s dad would meet and work out their price-fixing schemes along with a few other oil bigwigs—there was a Federal Trade Commission probe more than once, but they always managed to cover their tracks. Having adjacent properties in a foreign country helped.” She glanced across the room toward the hall where Drugov had cornered her. “I was always desperately bored and creeped out by Nikolai, but when he wasn’t here, I hung out with his sister, who was three years younger than me. She and I would play hide-and-seek for hours in both our houses. I know this house and all the back passages. Better to search now, while Nick is in the front room, entertaining two hundred people. We won’t have a better opportunity later.”

Shit. He didn’t know if it was her big brown eyes or the logic of her argument, but he found himself saying, “We’ll check out the hallway, but if it’s not clear, forget it.”

She shifted her fingers from his decorations to his bow tie, and tugged. “And, if it’s clear?”

He caved to the pull on his tie—and her damn beautiful eyes—and kissed her, then said, “We’ll scope out the second floor, but that’s all.”

Her grin widened and her eyes warmed like he’d just set off a sparkler. Damn, he was a sucker.

They wandered through the rooms on the way to the dining area. There they found a dozen round tables that sat ten apiece, set for dinner service. Half the tables were full, and waiters circulated with laden trays, some with appetizers, some with the main course, others with dessert.

It appeared guests could just wander in and sit down for a multicourse meal served by waiters whenever they wished.

“Wouldn’t a buffet make more sense?” he whispered in Brie’s ear.

“That’s so delightfully frugal of you.”

He laughed. He’d traveled the world with the Army and visited both exotic and expensive places, but these houses with their armies of servants really took it to the next level. His mom wouldn’t believe this story.

Until yesterday, he’d never been in a house that required a complete staff: cook, maid, butler, chauffer, valet, gardener, and the still-undefined role of the guy who delivered drinks to the pool area. But now, day two in Morocco and he was on his third staffed estate. And he’d begun to believe it was passé to have only seven or eight domestics.

That’s what they were called, right? Domestic servants.

The word servant still felt wrong. Like a slur. But it wasn’t. It was just a job title, and the people who’d served in all three houses had been kind and strove for invisible efficiency.

They bypassed the dining room, appearing to wander aimlessly, striving for their own invisibility. Without so much as a glance left or right, Brie entered the adjacent, empty dining room and made her way to the back wall where there was an arched doorway. A servant was there, carrying a tray, and he startled when Brie stepped into his line of sight.

“Would it be possible to get a gluten-free meal?” she asked.

The waiter’s eyes widened at her request, and Bastian guessed it was unusual in Morocco to deal with food allergies. But then, in many countries in Africa, food was scarce and people ate what was available, period. There was no accommodation for allergies, because there couldn’t be.

The server went to the kitchen to check on her request, leaving them alone in the back hall. Brie took Bastian’s hand and led him to a dark, narrow enclosed stairway. They were halfway up the flight when the snick of a knob being turned alerted them they were about to have company.

Bastian scooped Brie up and pressed her against the stairwell wall, as if they’d chosen this spot for a fast, private screw. He kissed her as if their lives depended on it, and she kissed him back with equal intensity.

He hiked up her skirt and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and sucked on his tongue. She reached for his belt buckle as the door opened fully, letting light spill up the stairs.

A voice with a heavy Russian accent came to them from the bottom of the stairs. “Aren’t public displays of affection frowned upon when in uniform?”

Bastian set Brie down and tucked her behind him. He faced the man at the bottom of the stairs, hand on the pistol concealed by his jacket. Backlit as he was by the open door, Bastian couldn’t see the man’s face, but the voice matched the mysterious Russian who’d helped them earlier.

The door closed, and footsteps padded up the stairs. A red LED light flared. Bright enough to illuminate faces, but not white, which would blind them and ruin their night vision.

The man’s gaze took in Bastian’s disheveled uniform, and he made a clicking sound with his tongue. “I might’ve expected this from Ms. Stewart, but not from Special Forces.”

“Just having a quickie,” Bastian said. “Is that a problem?”

The man shook his head. “You were heading upstairs.”

Bastian said nothing. It was a lose/lose kind of statement. Silence was the best defense. He didn’t want to pull his weapon. Not now and not on this man.

Finally, the Russian said, “Keep your gun hidden, Chief Ford. I think we can help each other.”

“I never caught your name,” Bastian said in response.

“My name doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, but ‘hey you’ gets so tedious,” Brie said, making Bastian smile.

“Call me Ivan, if you insist upon a name.”

“Okay, Ivan,” Brie said, “how can we help each other?”

“You want to know where Lawiri is?”

Bastian stiffened. Beside him, so did Brie. “Yes,” he said.

“Is he here? In this house?” she asked.

“No. Drugov sent him away when he issued your invitation. Tomorrow, we will talk. I will lead you to him.”

“When?”

“I will contact you in the morning with a time and place.” He scanned them up and down and sighed. “I’ll lead you out the front stairs. We’ll make it look like I was giving you a tour. There’s quite the trophy room at the end of the upper hall.”

Brie shuddered. “I’ve seen it. It’s disgusting.” To Bastian, she said, “Big game. Cats of all types, everything with antlers imaginable, and at the center of it all, an elephant. Most are endangered species. And he doesn’t eat the meat. It’s just blood sport. He has them stuffed so he can show the world how small his dick is.”

They reached the upper landing, and Ivan checked the hall before motioning for them to follow. “This is my second time rescuing you tonight, Ms. Stewart. There won’t be a third time.”

“I’ve been hanging out with Brie for a few weeks now,” Bastian said, “and I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve had to rescue her. Welcome to the club.”

Brie snorted. “They weren’t all my fault. And I saved your ass at least once.” She grabbed his butt and squeezed. “Worth it, I think.”

Ivan rolled his eyes. “Come on, we need to get back in the ballroom before Nick the Prick notices we’re all missing.”

“We might not have found Lawiri, but we did find an ally,” Brie said as they walked down the long driveway, skipping the limo ride to enjoy the breezy night. They’d rejoined the party, each dancing to several songs with different partners. Brie’s dance card included an inebriated Armando and the airline tycoon, while Bastian had partnered Annette and several other women. Now, finally, they were escaping, done playing spies for the night.

“If we can trust Ivan,” Bastian said. “I’m not sure.”

“I’m not either, but for some reason, he doesn’t scare me.”

“He should. GRU operators are badass dudes.”

“I’m sure he’s as badass as they come—he scares Nikolai, which I didn’t think was possible—but I don’t get that vibe from him. He can control Nikolai. We need him on our side.”

“That’s the problem, though—is he on our side? If he’s GRU, he’s team Nick the Prick all the way. You aren’t going to find anyone in the GRU waffling in their loyalty.”

Her heel landed on top of a small pebble, rolling her ankle—the same one that had finally healed from South Sudan. Bastian caught her before she went down and scooped her into his arms. “No more walking for you.”

“See. Maybe the limo isn’t so ridiculous after all.”

“It’s totally ridiculous. Especially when I can carry you.”

She laughed and threaded her fingers through the hair at his nape. “And look, you’ve saved me again.”

“I’ve already added it to the tally.”

When they reached the carpeted entry path, Brie wiggled in his arms. “I can take off my heels and walk. My ankle isn’t that bad.”

His response was a simple “No.”

Youssef’s face was a careful blank mask when Bastian carried Brie across the threshold and breezed by him.

“At least take the elevator, not the stairs.”

“Now I feel like you’re challenging me.” He headed toward the wide, curved staircase.

“Bastian! You’ve impressed me enough! Save your strength, because when we get to the bedroom, you’re going to need it.”

He laughed and turned toward the small lift. “I can’t believe your house has an elevator.”

“Only one, though. I think Armando’s got two.”

“He’s such a show-off.” Bastian hit the wrong call button.

“Down?” she asked. “To the Turkish bath?”

“Yes.”

With that single syllable, heat flooded her.

The door slid open, and he carried her into the lift. She untied his bow tie as they descended. She slid the cloth up to his nape and used it to pull his head down for a deep kiss.

The doors opened, and the kiss continued as he carried her through the lounge outside the bath to the ornate double doors. He ended the kiss so he could find the door handle.

He pushed open the panel and carried her inside, then shouldered the door closed. “I’ve imagined this from the moment you showed me the bath on the tour.”

He lowered her to the floor. She scanned the room, trying to see it through his eyes, as if for the first time. It wasn’t a traditional hammam. It was more of a grotto, with a serpentine tiled pool that wound like a river. Tucked into the first curve was a half-moon hot tub, set off with columns and arches. Along the back ledge of the tub were lit fragrant candles. A waterfall spilled from the tub into the main pool, which flowed down the room, ending at an enclosed steam room that appeared to be carved from bedrock. Another curve along the length of the pool was occupied by a tiled wet bar, where more lit candles glowed. Opposite the bar and hot tub, three half-dome alcoves filled the serpentine curves. Each alcove was padded with an oval-shaped velvet cushion the length and width of a queen-sized mattress, topped by thick pillows that lined the half-moon wall.

The Turkish bath was outrageous, extravagant, and her favorite room in the house. This had been her refuge as a teen, a place to hide from the world and find inner peace.

She turned and locked the door, then checked the security panel to make sure the door to the outdoor pool area on the other side of the steam room was also locked. No one was going to interrupt them tonight. She adjusted the lights, dimming the far half of the room, while lighting the chandelier in the nearest alcove, which emitted a soft, warm glow.

She’d felt guilty for missing this bath when she was in South Sudan and only had six cups of water with which to wash, but she had. The hammam was opulent in the extreme, and she was fortunate to get to enjoy it. Tonight she would do so without guilt.

She slipped off her heels and approached the hot tub, dipping her hand in to test the temperature. A perfect hundred and two Fahrenheit.

“When did you arrange this?” she asked as she swished her hand in the soothingly hot water. They didn’t keep the hot tub at full temperature all the time, because it fed and heated the much larger pool. It took several hours to bring everything up to heat.

She turned to see Bastian taking a platter of olives, dates, grapes, cheeses, and breads from a small fridge mounted under the bar. “I told Youssef to set it up when we returned from lunch.” He set the tray next to the hot tub, then returned to the bar to grab a bottle of sparkling pomegranate juice from a sweating ice bucket. He poured the bubbly liquid into two champagne flutes and placed them with the food platter next to the tub.

Finally, he turned to her and gave her a measured, sexy smile. Slowly, deliberately, he undressed, removing shoes and socks first, then moving up to cufflinks and the chain that held his jacket closed. He set them on the tiled bar top, then draped the jacket on a stool. He removed his suspenders and cummerbund and the small, hidden gun holster, before reaching for the shirt studs. She watched in rapt attention as each small stud dropped onto the bar, making a soft pinging sound.

He slipped off the shirt. At last he was bare from the waist up, and she took him in. Salmon tattoo and coppery tanned skin over hard, sleek muscles. Wide shoulders, narrow hips. Utterly beautiful. She remembered watching him write a message in the grass in South Sudan, taking in his perfect body and wanting to explore him then with her hands and mouth. Nothing had changed since then. She still itched to touch him, to lick him. And tonight she would. Every perfect inch.

They’d made love before, but somehow, this felt like a first time. But then, tonight she’d hold nothing back.

He met her gaze, watching her watch him as he removed his pants, followed by the knife sheathed to his thigh and gun with ankle holster. All that remained were boxer briefs that bulged with a thick erection.

She reached out to stroke him. She wanted to drop to her knees and take him in her mouth, but he stopped her. “Uh-uh. No touching until we’re in the tub. I’m going to make love to you in the water, then again on that bed. And then maybe in the steam room, if I can last another round.”

He pulled out her arm and pointed to the spot where she’d been chipped. A thin white line remained after the scab had disappeared. “You’ve got a tracker there, and mine is here.” He circled the spot on his leg. “We’ll leave those areas alone, but otherwise, I intend to touch you everywhere.” He opened a cupboard under the bar and pulled out a box of condoms. “I remembered to put these here earlier.”

She smiled and stepped up behind him, running a hand down his muscled back. She kissed his shoulder. “I was tested for everything when we were on the carrier. I’m clean.” She slid a hand over his boxer-brief-clad ass, and added, “How about you?”

“I was tested again too. I’m clean.” His voice had gone hoarse.

She laughed as she ran her lips down his spine. “Then we don’t need those.”

“What about birth control?”

“I have an arm implant, the kind that lasts for up to three years. They’re recommended for all female aid workers—in case we’re raped.”

He made a sound low in his throat, and she knew what he was thinking. “That didn’t happen to me. Thanks to you.” She kissed his back, his shoulder, working her way around to his front as he turned toward her. “And tonight, we’re going to make love and celebrate life and surviving and each other.”

His hands circled her hips and he dropped soft kisses on her lips. “Well then, why are you still in this gown?”

She turned, presenting the zipper to him. “Because I can’t reach the zipper.”

He chuckled. “I planned everything about this op, but forgot about dress extraction.” His lips followed the zipper down her back. The gown had a built-in bra, so when it dropped to the floor, she was left wearing the ruby necklace, silk panties, and nothing else. She slipped off the panties and raised her hands for the necklace.

“No,” Bastian said. “Leave it on. It’s sexy as hell.”

She smiled and crossed to the hot tub, stepping into the liquid heat, letting out a soft purr of pleasure as she sank into the steamy water. Bastian removed his briefs and settled in the tub next to her. He reached for the champagne flutes and handed one to her. They clinked glasses and then took a sip. She liked this pomegranate soda because it was tart and had a similar mouth feel to champagne.

She placed her glass on the rim of the tub and settled at Bastian’s side, resting her cheek on his shoulder. She ran a hand down his thigh under the water. “This feels heavenly. I didn’t realize how much I needed a soak after today. Or this week…or…er, weeks. Thank you. For setting it up. For thinking of everything.”

“If you’re tired, we don’t have to make love. Just let me hold you.”

She lifted her head and smiled up at him. He meant it, even though his erection made it clear his body wanted much more. She shifted, rising on her knees and then turning to straddle him on the submerged bench seat. She purred again as his erection rubbed against her clit and she settled on him, her breasts to his pecs, her mouth to his lips. “No way. You’re going to make love to me in the tub, in an alcove, and in the steam room, just like you promised, Chief Ford.”

He rocked his hips, causing his penis to stroke her clit. “I’m a man who knows how to take orders.”

She took his bottom lip between her teeth and teased it. Then she released him and said, “I’ve never had sex in this room before.”

His hands settled on her waist. He slid one down, over her ass. “Never?”

“Never.”

“I’m curious why.” His lips traced her shoulder. “The first thing I thought when you showed me this room was how much I wanted to make love to you on one of those beds. To see you naked in the golden light as I thrust inside you.”

She smiled. She’d thought the same thing when she gave him the tour, but hadn’t been ready to let go of her anger at the time. “This is my favorite room in the villa. It always has been. It was my refuge. My safe space. This room is too special to share with just anyone.”

His eyes lit with heat and something more. “Are you saying I’m special, Ms. Stewart?”

“I’m saying you’re the most special.”

“Well, I am Special Forces.”

She laughed. “You certainly are a force. You’re also the best man I’ve ever known. The only man I want to share this with.” She stroked his cheek. “Because I’m in love with you.”

His eyes widened. “Oh, Brie.” The words were guttural. Full of emotion. He pulled her head down and kissed her, his tongue sliding deep in her mouth. The kiss was hot and intense and went on for a long perfect moment. His erection teased her clit, and she could melt from the sensation of being submerged in the hot water as he kissed her.

She released his mouth to catch her breath and opened her eyes to meet his hot stare. His hand cupped the back of her neck. “I love you too. You warned me before the first kiss. I didn’t listen. You were right. One kiss and I was a goner.”

She laughed. “I think it took more than one.”

“Maybe. But I fell just the same.”

She reached between their bodies and stroked his thick erection. “I think we should do something about it.” She positioned his cock and slid down, taking him deep in one thrust. She kissed him as she rocked on her knees, loving the feel of him inside her while immersed in hot water.

She slid up, and her breasts rose from the water. Bastian sucked on her nipple, releasing it when it dropped to water level as she took him deep again. He cupped her hips and lifted and lowered her, sucking and licking her breasts at the peak of each thrust. She arched her back and moaned, the sound echoing off the tiles.

He was so hard, she was going to come fast. Too fast. And she still wanted to taste him. To prolong the moment. She rose up and he slipped from her body. “Sit on the edge of the tub. So I can go down on you without drowning.”

He did know how to take orders. He moved two candles and planted himself on the ledge. She settled before him, kneeling on the bench. She stroked his cock from base to tip, then took him in her mouth, all the way to the back of her throat.

He groaned and cursed and whispered approval as she sucked and stroked and made his balls tighten in her cupped hand. His hands cradled her head as he rocked his hips. She loved the feel of his slick head against her tongue and the sound of his pleasure. She opened her eyes and held his gaze as he thrust into her mouth.

“Oh, fuck, sweetheart. That’s so hot. You are so fucking beautiful.”

She could tell he was close to coming. He slipped from her mouth and lifted her as he slid down into the water. “Your turn,” he said, and rotated her to set her on the ledge, spreading her thighs wide. Then his mouth was on her, and she could no longer think. She couldn’t even keep her eyes open as he licked her clit and slid fingers inside her.

He gently scraped her clit with his teeth, then sucked, and she bucked as pleasure jolted through her. Then he settled in with his tongue, stroking her to the edge, his thumb joining in as she quaked on the verge. He lifted his mouth as his thumb kept time, and he rose from the tub and thrust inside her in the same moment her body crested. The feel of his cock working in time with his thumb drew a sharp yell of pleasure from her.

With his thumb working her clit, he used his other arm to pull her back into the tub, all while still thrusting inside her. Her orgasm continued as he stroked her inside and out. She wrapped her legs around his hips and sat on the bench once again as he knelt before her and thrust hard and fast, water splashing around their shoulders. She clenched tight on his cock as the pleasure spiraled ever upward and her moans echoed off the tile walls.

Bastian’s entire body tightened, and he came, his groan of release joining her sounds.

They sat together for a long moment afterward. Quiet. Breathing. Kissing. Him still inside her.

“That was amazing,” she said, leaning languidly against him.

He slid from her body and rose to his feet, lifting her. She gripped his shoulders, amazed he had the strength for such a feat after that orgasm. He carried her from the hot tub, crossed the pool, and climbed the step to the padded alcove. He set her down on the oval bed and stretched out beside her, gathering her against him. “I love you,” he said, his fingers trailing along her cheek.

She held his gaze. This moment was so perfect, it was hard to believe it was real. “I love you too, Bastian.”

“This isn’t temporary. This is the start of something. The start of everything.”

She nodded and fiddled with his hair. “We’ll get my family to back off. I won’t let them control me anymore and run from you. From us.”

“I can take care of myself, but even so, after we take down Drugov, they’ll have every reason to leave us alone.” Bastian absently touched the rubies at her neck. “I want to reconcile with my parents, but if they can’t accept you, I won’t.”

“Don’t push too fast. Too hard. I don’t want to be the reason you split from your family.”

“You wouldn’t be the reason. It’s on them that they didn’t want to let go of Cece, and I won’t have them being rude to you while welcoming my ex into their home. They’re my parents, and you’re my…” His voice trailed off as he searched for a word. Finally he cleared his throat. “I don’t want to jump too far ahead, but girlfriend sounds too…juvenile for what I think this is.”

“Love, partner, friend with extreme benefits.”

“I like what extreme implies.” He grinned and grabbed her ass. “Does it mean I get to go where no man has gone before?”

“Oh, honey, you wouldn’t be the first. But yes, you can go there as long as you bring lots of lube.”

He laughed. “Fair enough.” He nudged her to roll onto her belly, then massaged her butt before moving up to give her a proper shoulder massage.

She grabbed a pillow and tucked it under her chest as he worked magic with his fingers on her back, neck, and shoulder blades. His mouth joined his fingers and the massage took a sensual turn until sometime later she was on her back again and his mouth brought her to a second orgasm.

As her orgasm faded, she pushed him onto his back and straddled him, taking him deep inside, her body sparking with pleasure at the friction of each thrust. He cupped her breasts as she rode him, his black eyes smoky hot as he stared up at her.

“Is it like you imagined?” she asked as she rested her palms on his pecs and slid up and down his cock.

“A thousand times better.”

He thrust upward at the hips, his orgasm overtaking him.

Afterward, they each cleaned up in the bathroom and returned to their alcove with sheets and blankets along with the platter of food and sparkling juice. They ate, feeding each other, teasing and playing with the food. Then they blew out the candles and talked until she couldn’t keep her eyes open. They slept entwined, wrapped in a satin sheet, Brie feeling more content and happy than she’d ever felt in her life.