License to Love (An Agent Ex Novel) (22 page)

“Trust me now?” She was getting a crick in her neck from the awkward position. But she put on a sexy pout for his sake.

He laughed softly. “I’ve always trusted you.”

“You are such a wicked liar.” She pulled free of his grasp, slid off the sofa to kneel between his legs, and ran her hands up the inside of his thighs toward his crotch. “Prove it.” She rested one hand on the bulge in his pants and gently rubbed with a touch that made him shudder.

“Prove it?” He was cynical and laughing at her. “Trust can’t be proven, only built over years.”

She shook her head. “We both know that’s not true. Give me a shot at hypnotizing you. Let me let loose all your deepest desires.”

He laughed again and shook his head, looking at her as if she was crazy. “Lani, baby, you ask the impossible. I’m not susceptible. I’m part of the twenty percent who can’t be hypnotized.”

She grabbed the zipper to his pants and slid it down slowly, one notch at a time. His eyes dilated and his breath grew rapid.

“Being hypnotized is a matter of trust. Like trusting I’m not going to catch your cock in this zipper.” She leaned forward and untucked his shirt with her mouth, still holding the zipper and the fly of his pants. “Let me try. Let me take you to new heights, to pleasure you’ve only imagined.

“I know how to hypnotize a man to heighten the experience. Let me work
my
magic.” She let go of the zipper, pulled him onto the sofa, and climbed onto his lap, cupping his face in her hand.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid?” She kissed him lightly. “Are you afraid of ecstasy? Are you afraid to let the beast in you go?”

He grabbed her dress, pulled it over her head, and dropped it on the floor, leaving her exposed in her see-through lace bra and matching thong panties. “Is that a challenge?” Sol’s pupils dilated until the brown rims of his irises were barely visible.

The large blue topaz ring on her right hand sparkled in the candlelight. Her lips were inches from his. “Absolutely, baby.”

She moved his hands to her breasts and stroked his cheek with the back of her fingers, running her hand right next to his nose just as she hit a hidden button on the ring. The ring released an invisible, odorless burst of the hormone oxytocin, which stimulates trust and generosity to strangers. It was a hypnotist’s dream drug.

She cupped his chin and released another burst of the oxytocin. “Trust me, baby. I can make you very,
very
happy.”

He thrust his pelvis into hers so she could feel him hard against her. “You can make me happier than this?”

“I can make you happier than
ever
.”

His black eyes stared back at her. “I’m game. But when this fails, we play my way.”

“You have to promise to try to fall under my spell.”

“I’m already under your spell. But I’ll try harder.” He thrust up against her again.

She kissed him lightly again and waved her hand in front of his face as she released another burst of oxytocin. “You’re getting very sleepy.”

Sol grinned. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

“I’ve only just begun.” She stared deeply into his eyes and went into her patter in her smooth, calm, seductive voice, releasing bursts of oxytocin at regular intervals until his body relaxed and his head lolled back.

“Sol, Sol, can you hear me? Your left hand is heavy. Very heavy. Dead weight. Too heavy to lift. Can you lift it for me, Sol?”

Sol struggled, even grabbed it with his right hand and tried to lift it. But it wouldn’t move.

He’s under.

“That’s good, Sol. You can stop trying to move it now.”

Sol had hidden cameras watching everything. Lani leaned back and pretended to remove a shoe, hitting a secret button in the heel that activated a camera jammer.

“You’re a brilliant man.” She stroked his cheek again, releasing another burst of the hormone. “Brilliant men are sexy,” she cooed. “But you don’t get to brag, do you? Such a shame. The world should know how great you are. You’re planning a big illusion. Something so fantastic and brilliant you can’t tell anyone. Except me, Sol. Telling me will give you a sexual high.

“Imagine kissing me, tasting me, running your hands over my body, experiencing every inch of me, knowing we share a secret so dangerous and brilliant it unites us as one. Telling me releases you from your bonds, makes you whole and powerful. It will show them who’s in control.” As she stroked his cheek, he gasped and writhed beneath her.

If only she could stop straddling him, jump off, get dressed, and head home to shower. But she couldn’t take the chance of breaking his trance.

“When you tell me your secrets, you’ll feel a tremendous sense of relief, and a rush of sexual excitement like you’ve never felt before.”

She unbuttoned his shirt and stroked his chest. “You’re turned on. Throbbing. Pushing to the point of release. Feel strong. Feel the power of sharing. What are you planning, baby? Tell me about your next grand illusion.”

Sol was breathing heavily. “Outlandish Marauders.”

She already knew that. “Give me the details. Who’s involved? Who are you working with?”

He tensed and became agitated and silent. He was afraid.

No one ever got out of bed with RIOT alive. Or screwed up and lived to tell about it. She had to proceed carefully or risk pushing him out of the hypnotic state.

“I can bring you great pleasure.” She leaned into him and whispered in his ear, “But you have to trust me with your secrets.”

He shook his head and muttered, “People.” His fear was too great and deeply rooted to overcome. She tried several more times, but he didn’t spill any intel.

“Sol, listen to me. Relax. Just relax. Everything is okay. Go back to that deep place inside yourself where you feel safe. Are you there, Sol? Are you safe?”

He nodded.

“Good. Good. I’m going to put you to bed. But first, you’re going to tell me a bedtime story—all your lovely, sexy fantasies. What turns you on. Your favorite positions, what you love for your women to say, how you like to be touched. How you imagine making love to me.

“When you wake in the morning, you won’t remember a thing about what we talked about. But you’ll remember everything you describe in your story to me as real, so make it detailed and explicit, imagine it as a movie, as if we pleasured each other in all the ways you describe.

“You’ll feel so close to me you’ll never want to hurt me, ever. No matter who orders it. You’ll protect me. Understand?”

He nodded. “Never hurt you.”

“You’ll never speak of this to anyone. Telling
anyone
could cost you your life.”

He nodded. “Never speak.”

She gave Sol a last dose of the oxytocin. “After you tell me your story, I’ll tell you mine.” A little story about a magician who developed a sudden case of erectile dysfunction.

*   *   *

Later that night, Lani cuddled up in the ultra-comfy king-size bed in Rock’s guest bedroom suite at his mansion, still trembling with disgust from having had to listen to Sol’s base fantasies. She’d managed to avoid Rock when she came in. He was in what he and Tate were calling the war room where they mapped out the illusion.

The illusion. Rumors, of course, abounded about the U.S. military installation, Area 51, or Dreamland as some called it, located about a hundred miles outside Las Vegas. Many Americans believed it’s where the U.S. government housed captured aliens for study and flying saucers and other UFOs. As far as Lani knew, Area 51 was simply a top-secret weapons and R&D facility. Even she didn’t have clearance to know what it was RIOT was planning to steal from there.

Lani’s cell phone buzzed on the nightstand next to her. Her heart raced as she grabbed the phone, typed in her password, and hit view to see her text. Her little Stone smiled back at her, his dark hair flopping over his toddler eyes so like his father’s as he held a toy wand. Her weekly picture.

Nanny sent one a week, but only after Lani sent the code word that it was all clear. Until the mission was over and RIOT no longer had a need for Rock, or any leverage against him, once-a-week e-mails were all the contact she was allowed.

She stroked the phone as gently as if she was stroking her fifteen-month-old’s cheek. He looked so much like his daddy. She wished Rock could see him. She wished … for a lot of nearly impossible things.

*   *   *

It’s showtime
, Lani thought as she waited in the dark just offstage for her cue to reappear after her two-year absence. Finally, the audience, an audience, anyway, would get their prestige. In Sol’s act.
Damn, Sol.

For two days Sol had punishingly worked her butt off in overly long rehearsals. Bending her into pretzels and contortions, trying everything to get just the right, most dramatic reveal. He’d finally settled on reenacting Rock’s act, with himself cast as the groom. This time successfully reappearing the bride.

It was clear Sol wouldn’t rest until he’d completely humiliated Rock. If it weren’t for this mission, and its importance, Lani would never have agreed to be a part of it.

Sol didn’t work just her. He’d worked the entire cast with an almost demonic energy. He was a dark magician with a mission—revenge and one-upmanship. And evil.

Sol had micromanaged everything, including the repair and cleaning of the original bride costume from Rock’s show that Lani had brought back with her. The shoes had been a bit of a problem. The one had a broken heel and both were covered in blood. As everyone knows, blood is impossible to get out of white satin.

There was no way Lani could ever bring the originals back to show Sol. But Malene had worked her brand of magic and managed to get an identical replacement pair. Even making them look slightly worn.

In the meantime, Sol’s PR firm had worked with equal furor ginning up publicity and fervor for this show, aided behind the scenes with help from NCS. Hinting at a stunning surprise, a great feat never before performed on stage, they’d managed to fill the audience with paparazzi, gossip rag reporters, and Rock. Which delighted Sol beyond measure. So much so, that Lani was more suspicious than usual of Sol’s motives, worried that he had a sinister something else up his sleeve.

These last two days, Sol had watched her so closely he bordered on obsessed. And a sociopath obsessed was nothing to mess with. Hypnotizing him had been a dangerous, and perhaps foolhardy, move. At times, she wondered whether he’d succeeded in fooling her by faking the hypnotic state.

She would have doubted her success even now. But Sol had made several passes at her during rehearsals and after. He’d grabbed her, held her close, and pressed his aroused advantage. Only to quickly wilt.

It saved her from having to fend off his advances. But she felt that he somehow blamed his male problems on her. Which, of course, he should. But he didn’t know that. A sexually frustrated sociopath, however, was an exceptionally dangerous animal.

Sol and his minions watched her every move. She was never left alone and she’d collected little to no new intelligence.

And Sol’s cast and crew? Tight-lipped or knew nothing. They gossiped innocuously and seemed genuinely happy and excited for the act. She was completely stymied.

Meanwhile Rock worked long hours in secret with his troupe of young magicians, locked behind closed doors in his private rehearsal space. He hadn’t made good on his promise to win her love. Hadn’t even made any halfway valiant attempts. And she’d so been looking forward to the game. But then he was as much a liar as she was.

Maybe she should have been relieved, but she’d expected more tenacity from him. And fun. He’d disappointed her.

But he was sweet in his concern for her safety, insisting on devising a signal, a parade wave aimed at him and Tate, if she felt in any danger on stage during the performance. If she gave the signal, he and Tate would rush to the rescue. They evidently had contingency plans for everything. Rock believed that Sol would stop at nothing to get revenge. Killing Lani was an effective way to do it.

Lani blew out a breath as she waited for her cue.

Lani agreed with Rock in theory. But she was convinced Sol would never do anything to ruin his act. Despite Rock’s fears, she was confident she’d be perfectly safe on stage. For the duration of the show.

The show’s choreographer came by and rested a hand on her shoulder. She jumped.

“You okay?” he asked. “Got a case of jitters tonight?”

She gave him a wobbly smile. “Just a bit of stage fright. It’s been a few years.” She paused. “You have to admit—this is a pretty dramatic comeback. What will Rock do when he sees me again?” She laughed nervously. And she didn’t even have to fake it. “My mouth is dry as cotton.”

The choreographer gave her shoulder a squeeze, twisted the top off a bottle of flavored water he’d been carrying, and handed it to her. “Here. Wet your whistle. You’ll be fine. Sol will protect you.”

Sure he will.
She nodded, took the water, and gratefully took a sip. But only a sip. That’s all her nerves and costume would allow. The water was overly sweet with just a hint of bitter aftertaste. Or maybe that was just the bad taste in her mouth from working with Sol.

She needed to get her head in the show and calm down. As it was she could barely breathe in the tightly corseted white bodice of her costume. She was sure Sol had ordered it laced extra tight.

Before the mission began, Malene had altered the costume so that it still went on like second skin. Lani looked down at the wedding gown with a diaphanous skirt that would catch the laser light bouncing around the stage. The sheer material showed off her tanned legs and the tiny white-sequined bikini panties she wore. Just like it had the first time she’d worn it. She was even more nervous now.

On stage, Sol was performing the pledge, the setup of the trick. “Ladies and gentlemen, behold my beautiful assistant. Isn’t she lovely?” Sol’s voice boomed through the theater, silken and husky, a clear imitation of Rock’s.

The assistant, who vaguely resembled Lani, was dressed as the sexy vixen in red who’d reappeared instead of Lani in Rock’s act. A close-up of the red lady’s face flashed on a giant video screen behind Sol. The sequins of her costume caught the stage light and flashed sparkles of red, looking as if she was shooting sparks. Sol was making it clear he was performing Rock’s trick in reverse, disappearing the red girl. But could he reappear the bride?