Lexi Blake - Dungeon Royale

And he was hers.

She kissed her man.

Damon’s hands tightened and suddenly she was on Nigel’s desk.

“Damon, what are you doing? Damon, you can’t do that here.” The entirety of SIS was outside the door. Nigel could walk back in at any time.

His eyes heated up and he spread her legs, making a place for himself. She could already feel his cock hardening against her. “When are you going to learn? Don’t tell me what I can’t do.”

He proceeded to show her that he could.

Dallas, TX

Two nights later

Simon Weston poured himself a Scotch and looked over at his cousins, thinking about the question J.T. had just asked. How had his trip gone? Well, he’d finally gotten his hands on Chelsea, and she’d pushed him away again.

And then he’d looked like a complete idiot for drinking drugged tea. He was so glad they’d caught that crazed-idiot Candice and arrested her. She could report on the current state of the British prison system. “My stay was perfectly pleasant, thank you.”

He wasn’t about to tell them how he’d fucked up again. He blamed Chelsea. He’d been watching her the whole time or he might have noticed his drink had been roofied. Even as the drugs had taken effect, he’d reached out to her.

And she’d ignored him. Again.

J.T. Malone rolled his dark eyes and took a swig of beer. Simon only kept it in his fridge for his cousins’ visits, which were occurring more and more often, but then he’d expected to see them since he was living so close. “I talked to Aunt Maura. She said you barely stopped by. Were you doing the spy shit?”

“It’s not shit, asshole.” Michael reached out and swatted his twin. “Just because you’re happy behind a damn desk doesn’t mean the rest of us are.”

His cousins fought as often now as they did when they were all kids. He would get sent to Texas during long school holidays. His parents were lovely people, but he’d really enjoyed the freedom he’d found on his uncle’s ranch. His uncle ran Malone Oil, one of the wealthiest companies in the world, but no one would accuse David Malone or his sons of being aristocratic. No one treated him like royalty on the ranch. There was no pressure on him to bring glory to the family name there. A break from the pressure of being one of the Duke of Norsley’s heirs had been a good reason to come see his cousins.

The other being that he genuinely enjoyed their company. They were more his brothers than his own brother. Clive never even knew he did the “spy stuff,” much less complained about it.

“I’m in private security now.” He went to the big floor to ceiling windows that showed a spectacular view of Dallas. In the distance, the lights from Reunion Tower blinked like a giant Christmas ornament.

“You work for Ian Taggart,” Michael said, walking up behind him. “I might be a SEAL, but we all know who Tag is. And we know he works for the Agency.”

Tag might work for them from time to time, but he always stayed true to himself. It was why Simon followed him. If there was one thing he’d learned over the years, it was to answer to his own conscience always.

What had Shakespeare said? Every subject’s duty is the king’s, but every subject’s soul is his own.

That summed up the utter shit a soldier went through. He was done being a good soldier, a good son, a good agent. Being good had gotten him nowhere.

“Well, I only work for Tag. How about you? I heard the Agency is sniffing around you.” Tag had told him. Michael was a SEAL and a highly decorated one at that. He was smart, and there was a darkness about him that spoke of deadly grace. He was the opposite of his sunny other half. J.T. was an open book, every emotion out there worn on his sleeve. Michael’s waters ran deep.

Simon was worried for his cousin. He was worried about what would happen if the Agency got their hooks in him.

J.T. frowned fiercely. “What the hell? You’re not joining the fucking Agency. My brother is not becoming some damn CIA agent. You’re supposed to get tired of playing soldier and come the hell home.”

Michael gritted his teeth. Simon was fairly certain this wasn’t the first time they’d had this argument. “Big brother, keep your damn nose out of my business.”

Yes, that was what he needed to complete his evening. He needed a Malone brothers smack down. “You two keep it down or you can head back to Fort Worth. I’m not in the mood to play referee. Why the hell did you come all the way out here anyway?”

J.T. put his boots on the coffee table. “We wanted to see if you nabbed that nerd you were after. You were in Europe with her. We thought you might take the chance to make your move.”

He wished he’d never told his cousins about Chelsea. Too much Scotch. He should quit while he was ahead. “She’s not a nerd.”

Michael shrugged. “Hey, nerds can be hot.”

She wasn’t hot around him. She was cold as ice. Except every now and then he saw it in her eyes. He saw her longing. She wanted a Master and he wanted to take care of her.

“I work with her. Nothing more.” The bell chimed just in time to save him from a conversation he’d rather not have. “I’ll be right back.”

He’d ordered Chinese earlier—before his cousins had arrived. They were like locust. He would be lucky to get a noodle or two. He reached for his wallet as he opened the door.

Chelsea stood there, glancing nervously down the hallway. “Simon, I need to talk to you. Can I come in?”

He was dumbstruck. She avoided him like the plague and now she showed up on his doorstep looking like sin on two legs. She was wearing tight jeans and a V-neck sweater that showed off her breasts. “Why?”

She bit her bottom lip, sending his hormones into overdrive. “Because someone’s trying to kill me.”

He opened the door, letting her in and wondering if he’d ever let her leave again.

Simon, Chelsea, and the whole McKay-Taggart team returns August 19, 2014 with A View to a Thrill.

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