Chapter 40

The redhead with the I-cut-glass-with-my-unyielding stare leaned over the desk toward Sandesh. Under the black business jacket, she had a Beretta Tomcat. A tiny little thing that easily hid its real potential for danger. Telling.

They’d been in this windowless, colorless, almost airless ten-by-ten room for hours. His neck hurt. His ass hurt. Apparently, this was the way the Parish family treated potential suitors. They sat them at an Amish-crafted wood table, on a schoolmarm-straight wooden chair, while accusing fluorescent lights glared down at them.

Not that he thought Justice would ever consider him a suitor. Damn. He’d settle for “I won’t screw you into a warm, satiated coma and then abandon you without your passport in a foreign country.”

He’d need more than luck for that. He didn’t even know where she was right now. Didn’t even know where he was. He had some idea, though Gracie had blindfolded him. After he’d agreed.

That seemed to be a big deal for her. Asking if he’d mind her blindfolding him and taking him somewhere.

It had taken them three hours to get here, but he suspected that was to throw him off. The Mantua Academy was eighty minutes from the Philly airport. Where else would they take him?

The limo had seemed to drop down at one point, like into an underground garage. And she had taken him into and down an elevator that felt more like a ride at Great Adventure.

So he was down deep. And there was a muffled feeling that came from being surrounded by earth. He sat back, stretched.

Gracie grinned at him. “So when was the first time you and Justice had sex?”

Sandesh blinked. That was a turn in a whole new direction. They’d spent hours discussing Jordan and now she wanted to get personal. Curiosity? Or some weird suspicion? “That’s not significant to this discussion.”

“It is to me. And since you need our protection—”

Sandesh laughed. “If you didn’t get the memo, I did just fine protecting myself. And your sister. Unlike your supposed group of professionals.”

Gracie’s green eyes narrowed. Her pale skin reddened. Sandesh had never been a fan of blushing, but he was bored and angry and had to keep himself from taunting her to see if he could provoke a deeper skin tone.

“So you don’t care if Salma and her family are in trouble?”

He lowered his arms. Clenched his hands into fists. “What are you saying?”

“Well, tough guy, you rescued a group of enslaved women and girls on the same night Walid’s brother was killed. He followed the trail of those women and it led to Salma and you. He’s convinced you and she are his enemy. Which is part of the reason I took so long to get here. You’re on the Mantua Academy campus. Had to make sure Walid’s men weren’t following you.”

He let that sink in. Not just the statement—how the hell did she have access to that information?—but the domino effect. Salma’s organization, her safety, the safety of those they’d freed, the IPT’s mission, all compromised. And the final domino. The big one.

He was being bribed. Stay in line. Do what we say. Keep our secrets. And we’ll protect your friends and business. Mob-like practices. He kept his face impassive. He’d give her nothing. Not even a sense of his annoyance.

“What do you want?”

Gracie jerked her head sideways, as if cracking her neck. Frustration? “What do I want? Or what does Momma want?”

“There’s a difference?”

“A big difference. Momma wants your help taking out Walid. She wants you brought into the family, into our inner circle. I have no idea how they can possibly think that you’re worth it. When other men, good men, are…lost to us.”

Brought into the family? This fact pissed her off enough that she’d told him about the offer before her mother had even made it. She must be seriously pissed off. People made mistakes, revealed things when they were angry. Good men lost to us? “So you don’t have sex yourself. Is that the reason you want to hear about your sister’s sex life?”

Her face heated. She took a step back. “Justice spoke to you about me?”

Damn. He’d only been guessing, but he’d struck bone. And she looked anything but annoyed or suspicious. She looked hurt.

Sandesh pushed back in his chair. It creaked as he tried to snap his spine into better alignment. “Let’s say I agree to help you.”

He brought his hands up. Maybe a bit too quickly. Gracie flinched, reached under her jacket.

There was a moment of silence. His heart thudded in his chest. She drew her hand back out without the gun. Damn, were all these women just waiting for the entirety of the male population to go berserker on their asses?

He desperately wanted to ask her that, ask her if she thought he’d be putting up with this bullshit if it weren’t for her sister, but he didn’t trust her. He sensed she hid more than she said. And he didn’t need to give her any more information.

The whole reason he’d agreed to come here, to be blindfolded, to talk to this lunatic, was to keep Justice safe. Although Justice was scarce on details, someone in this family had betrayed her. He intended to find out who. And make sure they couldn’t do it again.

“I’m in. For as long as it takes to find and take out Walid. But that’s it. Justice and I have a personal relationship. If she wants you to know more, ask her. Or you can steal into her room at night and read her diary.”

Gracie laughed. She quickly schooled her features. “You’re kind of a bad boy. A bad boy who likes to do humanitarian stuff. Is that your story?”

“And I’m sticking to it.” Though the whole bad-boy thing made him sound like a thug and not a trained professional. He had better things to do than throw down over poor word choice.

Gracie sat on the edge of the table, close enough that he could smell her perfume. It smelled like fruity candy. He kept his eyes locked with hers. She leaned over, showing much more cleavage than he was comfortable not noticing.

He pushed up from his chair and stood. Justice had some messed-up family. She eased off the table and followed him. He stepped back. She stepped forward.

“What are you doing?” If he didn’t think she’d bring out her gun, he’d have put his arms out to impede her. She was practically pressed to his front.

“Come on. I saw you checking out my backside.”

He laughed out loud. Backside? She had to be joking, right? “I want to speak to your mother. The sooner the better. And like you, I look at a lot of people. Evaluate them. It’s reflex.”

She stopped, tilted her head. “Momma was right. You are a good man.”

Seriously? “So what, you were using your looks to try and manipulate me into revealing what a dog I am?”

She shrugged.

No. Not good enough. “First, my actions aren’t that involuntary. I don’t knee-jerk fuck women. Second, and this I really don’t get, how can a group of women dedicated to female equality use their own sexuality to gain position? Isn’t that what you’re fighting against?”

Gracie slapped a hand to his chest. “If you’re stupid enough to fall for those things, if you can’t overcome your own programming, please don’t think that I’m dumb enough not to use that to my advantage.”

Damn, these Parish women were as scary as hell.

* * *

After escorting him through a set of double doors and down a bland, gray-and-white hallway, Gracie led Sandesh inside a brightly decorated office. Mukta Parish’s office.

The moment Gracie showed him inside, Sandesh knew he’d be doing whatever they wanted.

Justice.

She stood up, turned. Those eyes—a deep darkness that captured pinpricks of light and turned them to stars—beamed. Like he carried something she’d been waiting for. Something she desperately needed.

Damn. He wished he could be angry. Forget this woman who’d told him her nightmare as a way to offer comfort. Forget that she’d risked herself for a child. Forget the seamless nighttime eyes that had launched the grenade that had saved them. Forget the lost and broken parts. The way she’d sung to him. The way she’d threaded her hand through his. Threaded her body around his. Threaded herself around his heart.

He should have been angry. He wanted to be. But he understood her too well. And he understood that leaving him had been her way of protecting him.

But he didn’t need her protection.

He walked to her. What had they done to her? She looked so…shaken. Behind her, Leland and Mukta exchanged glances. He didn’t care. If they wanted his cooperation, they’d have to put up with him being here. For Justice.

Her dark eyes. So beautiful and intense he had to swallow the pain in his throat.

She lowered her eyelashes. “You looked so peaceful sleeping. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

The corners of his mouth twitched. He held on to the smile. Barely. “I appreciate you leaving my passport at the airport. Kind of you.”

She whispered, “You don’t have to join my family. This mission.”

Oh hell. He wrapped his arms around her. “It’s done, Justice. I’m in it with you.”

She put her hands around his waist, tugged him closer. He could feel the entirety of her—the spread of her hips, the bend in her shoulder, the length of her neck, the muscles in her arms, the tip of her nose, the lay of her forehead against his cheek. Everywhere she touched left an impression of her as sweet and powerful as her kisses, her sighs, her tears, curses, laughter.

He loved this woman. Not going to tell her that. Not here. At least not with words.

He tipped her head up and kissed her.

He’d expected her to hold back. Family in the room and all. But she didn’t. She dipped her tongue into his mouth, tasted him as unconsciously and fully as if they were alone.

Sharp heat knifed through his body. He should walk away. Protect his heart. Not just his heart, but his charity. Too bad his programming, as Gracie put it, didn’t work that way. They broke apart. A moment longer and it would’ve gotten really awkward.

“Tagged and tailed,” he said, rubbing his nose along her proud forehead.

Justice stepped back. Her eyes widened. “You’re okay with inserting the GPS?”

He didn’t know how to answer that. Okay with it? Not at all. But he’d learned to be okay with sacrifice, the kind of sacrifice that could only tilt the scales toward justice.

His eyes scanned the others in the colorful office: Mukta and Leland. They’d manipulated him into a spot where he was forced to cooperate. Well, they’d be forced to do things too.

“Of course, I’m going to need some things in return. Like Mukta agreeing to fund the IPT startups for the next ten years.”

Mukta and Leland exchanged another glance. Their eyes conveyed messages only two people who were genuinely close could read. He wondered if they suspected the truth.

He really didn’t want any ties to Parish Industries or their covert operations. Not for ten years. Not for two.

But he knew people like Mukta and Leland. He knew that they’d figure his attraction to Justice wouldn’t be enough to keep him in line indefinitely. His offering them part of the IPT assured them that he was in this for the long haul. Another cog in their giant wheel of using peace operations to secretly kill and maim in the name of a higher cause. But until he was able to extricate himself and the IPT from that, he needed them to believe he was part of it.

Mukta nodded thoughtfully. “We could discuss such details.”

“Mukta?” Leland said. “Is it wise to tie the school to the IPT right now?”

Sandesh couldn’t help the bitter laugh. “So let me get this straight. You compromise the IPT’s name, organized crime is now after me, and when I ask for a little reimbursement for the charity you’ve all but destroyed, you take issue with my reputation.”

Leland put a hand on his waistband. Yep. Carrying.

Justice stepped slightly to her left, more fully between him and Leland. “Enough,” she said. “We’re connected. This is just money.”

Leland arched a brow at that.

“Done,” Mukta said, ending all objection. “I owe you, Sandesh. You saved Justice and kept our secrets. I might not know much, but I know that decency deserves my respect.”

“Funny, the last thing I feel is decent. In fact, I’d like to go home and get a shower. If you don’t mind.” He stepped past Justice, held out his arm for the tracer.

Leland reached into an ivory box on the desk. He opened it and pulled out an instrument that looked like a weapon to Sandesh, but he guessed would insert a microchip.

“This tracking device will give us an update on your location every fifteen minutes.” The message being that he would be constantly watched. “As head of Internal Security, I can see your exact location at any time.”

He loaded the device with a silver cylinder. “With this, you’ll have access to this home and to areas within. Justice will show you around. But when she’s not here, you’ll know when you don’t have access, because those doors won’t open to you.”

Leland placed the cold barrel of the instrument against Sandesh’s wrist and pressed. There was a pop and a sharp stab of pain. Heat spread along his skin. He looked at his arm. For one moment, he saw the outline of something. Then he flexed and released, and the chip sank away.

Justice reached out to him. Her hand shook as she traced over his wrist. Her fingers brushed back and forth. Her thick eyelashes lowered, fanned across her skin, blinked, and lifted. Her eyes, those fall-into-deep-waters-after-a-storm, those cool, sunless depths invited him in. “Ready to be initiated as a warrior woman?”

He huffed. “Sounds incredibly painful.”

She laughed, winked at him. “Actually, it all started with your elevator ride. How did you feel about going down, Sandesh? Want to go again?”

He wished he could’ve controlled the shocked laugh that broke from him. Or the heat in his face. Or the instant surge of lust. But this was Justice. And some things were just out of his control.

“How’s tomorrow? I need to check in on my mother.”

Justice cocked her head. “Stop trying to seduce me.”