101 Nights Box Set: Volume Two Read online

  No-strings-attached. I can’t quite get over the concept. Or more accurately, I can’t quite get over the idea of me having sex with someone, and it meaning nothing to one person. With what I know about George, I shouldn’t be this attracted. He’s sexy and saved my life, but he’s a psycho murdering bastard with a huge dick and no emotions who happens to like whores because he’s a commitment phobe.

  Which makes me hot.

  “You there?” he asks.

  Not the way you mean. I realize I’m staring blankly at the laptop screen again. “Um, almost.” A few more clicks, and I pull up Maya’s file to the section where he’s recorded notes over the years. “Do you see it?”

  He leans forward, his warm chest at my back. I start to think that maybe, I can try to have no-strings-attached sex. Just once, because the shit going through me is killing me. All I need is him inside me once, and I can check that box and move on.

  “All of her vacation the past ten years was taken in the US and Europe, except for this year. She went to Nijala once, six weeks ago,” he says, grey eyes scanning the notes.

  “Which isn’t smart, given the first note you ever took about her,” I say and nudge his hand aside to scroll down. “Elijah’s father declared Maya and Issa persona-non-grata when they decided to work for Elijah. She hasn’t been home, because –”

  “– she can’t go home without being tossed in jail,” he finishes. “You’re right. I had forgotten about that.”

  “So if she went home this year, someone had to have a good reason to clear that up.”

  “Like working with Elijah’s father to get rid of a certain American fiancée.”

  “Did you really call someone to bring her in or were you lying to me?” I ask.

  “I called someone. She’ll be at a secure location in about thirty minutes.”

  “You took my word,” I say, unusually pleased.

  “I knew someone on staff was involved.”

  “But you didn’t know who until I figured it out.”

  “On the contrary, I suspected.”

  I twist enough to glare at him and realize he’s fucking with me. Again. One corner of his mouth is turned up in amusement.

  “You can’t admit I’m right, can you?” I snap.

  “I can and do when warranted. I believe I’ve been quite fair in your praise.”

  Whatever. The longer I’m around him, the more serious I consider his proposition. “I’m going with you to see her.”

  “No.”

  “Hell, yes.”

  He levels a look on me, and I forbid my body from responding to the intensity of his grey eyes. “So you can run off with any information she provides?”

  “Like I trust you to stick around either.”

  We gaze at each other. There’s more at stake than my brittle emotions, and I refuse to back down.

  “Very well,” he relents. “All the computers stay here, so I know you have a reason to return.”

  I grimace. I debate silently for a moment then relent. “Fine. When do we leave?”

  “Now.”

  I stand, and he follows suit, his body brushing against mine. The simple touch slays me … I freeze, waiting for him to move. George rests one hand on my hip. He seems content to take his time, closing up his laptop, powering down a few other devices, working around me with a casual ease that makes me realize how serious he is about being able to remain unattached. It’s a struggle for me not to lean into him, and I’ve lost the battle with my body to stay in control of it.

  “Something wrong?” he asks casually enough that I know he’s noticed my silent struggle.

  “Fuck you, George,” I mutter.

  “Anytime.”

  George is unaffected in every way, and there’s a part of me that hurts to know it, because for a few weeks, I felt a little less alone. Our skills are unmatched, and he’s always humored my idiosyncrasies. I guess I hoped that meant we were … I don’t know. Friends isn’t the right word but something more than contemporaries. A word that implies mutual respect and appreciation. I hoped he’d be someone who understands me the way my family and friends never have.

  It’s clear I’m a means to an end for him in every way. It makes me a little sad because, unfortunately, I really respect the computer god he is.

  There’s a potential comic book name. Computer God. Eh … not dramatic enough. Fingerman? It sounds nice and is quite accurate, given my experience earlier, but there’s nothing about the name that screams sexy assassin-hacker. Hackman.

  I laugh. Sounds too much like Pacman.

  “Are you coming?” He’s at the door. Absorbed in reworking his potential action hero name, I’m staring obliviously at a monitor. “Leave your bag.”

  I feel naked without it, but the sense of being exposed is quickly replaced by one of anticipation. Soon, we’ll have a clue as to what happened to Natalie.

  Chapter Six: Alisha

  A while later, we’re in the car, headed across the City. After wolfing down a homemade breakfast sandwich and mocha, I’m near the breaking point. I don’t drink coffee often, mainly because I already have an issue sitting still. I’m dancing in my seat, excited to see where we’re going and to hear what Maya has to say.

  A glance at George stills my racing thoughts. “Are you sleeping?”

  “Meditating,” he replies without opening his eyes. His hands are on his knees, his breathing deep. “Might alleviate your jitters.”

  “I like my jitters. Tried yoga once but couldn’t get into it. How often do you meditate?”

  “Twice a day.”

  “For how long?”

  He says nothing.

  “Are you Buddhist or something?”

  “Do you always talk this much after coffee?”

  I sigh. “I’m excited about having a clue about where Natalie is.”

  His eyes open, and he gazes at me for a moment. “I was rude, and I apologize. But for future reference, meditation is a quiet time.”

  Interesting. He apologizes for being blunt but not for what happened in bed. Or killing people. Or destroying my hacking set up and keeping me under his thumb.

  How is he better than Tony, aside from the fact he hasn’t hit me yet? I definitely attract a certain type.

  The car stops in a garage, and I open my door, springing out without caring where we’re going. George exits the car and waves for me to follow him. We walk through a warehouse of some sort, through the open bay to the block-like offices in back.

  I recognize Maya through the window of one office. Small and trim, she’s pacing behind a table while two of George’s security personnel stand guard.

  “Wait here,” he instructs me, resting a hand on my forearm.

  “No. I’m going in, too.”

  George draws me to face him, hands on my arms. “Have you ever been in an interrogation?”

  “No.” At least, I think that’s what he asked. Being this close to him has a way of distracting me. His grey eyes hold mine, and he’s tense despite meditating in the car, his powerful body poised for action leaving me awestruck. Like a gladiator before battle. It’s scary – and beautiful.

  Hmmm. Gladiator. It’s definitely a good comic book hero’s name.

  “Remain here, Alisha. There are some aspects of what I do that I rather you not witness,” he says quietly.

  “Because you hurt people.”

  “Sometimes.”

  My throat tightens. His words bring me back to the sobering reality of what he is. Not a comic book hero, but a real live man who’s done terrible things.

  “I respect you too much to allow you to watch,” he adds.

  Respect? Puzzled, I remain where I am when he moves away. To respect someone, you sort of need to be able to have emotions of some sort, and he’s very good at turning them off and on like a light switch.

  George walks into the office, and the blinds are lowered. I can’t see what’s going on.

  My heart is pounding, and fear flutters through
me. I can’t help imagining myself on the other side of the desk, where Maya sits. It’s not far fetched at all, especially if I try to grab information about Natalie and run. George will hunt me down, and the idea of a naked interrogation fills my belly with butterflies.

  But the whisper in my head that Tony will do the same for his laptop … that terrifies me. Tony clearly wants me dead. George wouldn’t hurt me.

  I think. I don’t actually know for sure or what it’d take to push him to that level. He seems pretty calm. I don’t imagine he’d kill someone without good reason.

  I want to believe that. I really do.

  A shiver works its way down my back. My emotions are at war.

  The door to the office opens, and he strides out with a glance at his security personnel. There’s no blood on his clothing, no sign of disarray. A part of me is relieved to know he at least didn’t torture or kill Maya.

  Without speaking to me, George heads back through the warehouse, his pace quick enough that I have to trot to keep up.

  “George! What did she say?” I ask anxiously.

  He doesn’t answer.

  “Yo!” I take his arm with both my hands and dig in my heels, pulling him to a halt. “We’re in this together, and I want to know if I got the right person!”

  He draws a deep breath before meeting my gaze. “You did. She admitted to her part.”

  I wait, studying his features. Before he speaks again, I can tell things didn’t go his way.

  “She doesn’t know more about Hassan’s plan or what happened after Natalie was taken.”

  “You believe her?” I ask, surprised.

  “Unfortunately.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a cell phone. “I know you can hack this.” He hands it over then starts past me again, his jaw clenched and his gaze steely.

  “Wait, George, why the bad energy?” I ask, trailing. Excitement streaks through me, and I clutch the cell hard. “The phone can connect us to Hassan. We’ll be able to track –”

  “I know.”

  Frowning, I trail, worried he’s got some terrible news about Natalie he’s not sharing.

  We return to the waiting car and get into the backseat. I say nothing until we’re out of the garage, hoping he just needs a minute to clear his thoughts or something. Finally unable to take the silence anymore, I twist in my seat to confront him.

  George is staring out the window.

  “Okay, what is it?” I ask. “Is Natalie okay? Is … Kallista okay? What has you freaked out?”

  “I assume so. Maya said they were wanted alive.”

  “That’s a good start.” I swallow. “But …”

  “You know something I need to know.”

  “Okay.” I squirm , confused and impatient. I can’t imagine what Maya might’ve said that would make George freeze up like this. “We can do an information exchange. Question for a question.”

  “Agreed. You ask first.”

  “Hmmm. Okay, who is Kallista?”

  George is quiet for a moment then pulls out his phone. He unlocks it and navigates to an app. When it’s open, he hands it to me.

  It’s a personnel file, one I didn’t find on his laptop or network, which probably means this is the only place in the world where this file resides. There’s a picture of an adorable teenaged girl, and I read through the first page.

  “She’s Elijah’s younger sister. Real name Layla. Car accident left her crippled and suffering amnesia. You’ve been hiding her at Elijah’s request from her father,” I summarize, startled by the information. “But why?”

  “That’s two questions,” he says curtly and takes back his phone. “What you need to know: Someone followed your hacking activities into the scant bit of information I keep online about her. Everything else is kept locked down, away from unencrypted online access. When you found her, so did Hassan. Knowing the family history, it didn’t take him long to figure out who we were hiding.”

  My gaze is riveted to him, my gut twisting at the thought of setting up a fourteen-year-old girl to get kidnapped.

  “My question,” he continues. “Is Natalie pregnant?”

  My breath catches, and I stare at him.

  “Alisha,” he growls. “Now is not the time to lie to me.”

  It takes me a few seconds to recover. “Yes.” I say the word before I can stop myself. “She found out yesterday. How could Maya know?”

  “She doesn’t, and if we’re lucky, Hassan won’t figure it out either.”

  “What is going on, George?” I demand, growing irritated. “What did Maya say?”

  “It has nothing to do with Maya.” He pauses, clearly troubled. “Talking to her made me realize she didn’t know something really important, something that would’ve stopped the kidnapping.”

  I wait, at the edge of my seat.

  “Elijah was getting ready to break it off with Natalie. Maya doesn’t know that, and neither does Hassan. But Natalie did,” he explains. “Maya didn’t know there was no need to kidnap her, and Natalie knew there was no need to leave town or pry further into Elijah’s life, because she was about to be jettisoned out of it anyway. Natalie shouldn’t have been in the garage in the first place.”

  My poor, sweet Natalie. Used and abandoned by the jackass she was with. Anger uncoils within me at his explanation. If Elijah had announced separating from her last week, she’d be safe. Better yet – he never should’ve thrown her into the middle of a worldwide spotlight and endangered her in the first place.

  “So there had to be another reason why Natalie was leaving,” George finishes. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it earlier. What would make a perfectly reasonable woman like Natalie run anyway?”

  I say nothing, my mouth dry and my insides shaky with worry and anger.

  “I can’t fucking believe I missed that,” George says, red creeping up his neck. “The clues were there. You shut down my system so I won’t be able to track you for a few days at least, and you sent her to Ohio, I imagine because it takes a while to move money when you’re outrunning someone like Tony and me.”

  I listen.

  “Elijah doesn’t know.”

  “No, he doesn’t.” It’s my turn to grow cold and angry. I lean back in my seat and stare out the window, not seeing one bit of the cityscape we’re passing. “That sack of shit was going to ruin her life and ditch her. I was making a plan to take care of her and keep her safe.”

  “EJ isn’t like that,” George replies firmly. “He cares for Natalie. The only reason he’d send her away is to protect her.”

  “From what?” I almost shout. “Being kidnapped by the henchman working for his father?”

  “From the same threat that prevented us from telling his sister Layla who she is and where she’s from. There’s a lot you don’t know about Elijah and his family, Alisha.”

  “Fuck your secrets, George. Did you or he ever think keeping the truth from people you care about is how they end up fucked in the end?”

  “Because you’ve never kept secrets?” he snaps. “Or had a team of hit men hunt you down?”

  “I never kept that knowledge from people in my life who might get caught in the crossfire! Natalie knows who I am and that I got into trouble. It’s not the first time.”

  “You have a knack for endangering others.”

  My jaw drops.

  He’s furious. I can see the muscles of his jaw ticking.

  But so am I. “I’m not the one who let Natalie get kidnapped. That happened on your watch!”

  George is silent.

  I want to scream. Instead, I stare out my window, the sizzling emotions between us too thick for the AC to cool off. Clutching Maya’s cell in my hand, I’m desperate to begin exploiting it and find a connection to Hassan. All it takes is one phone number, text, email … something to tie her to Hassan, and I can figure out a way to track him.

  We arrive to the building where George and Elijah live. I get out and wait at the elevator, silently cursing it for rec
ognizing George’s thumbprint and not mine. He joins me and activates the lift.

  Still not speaking to each other, we get in and return to the penthouse. I go immediately to the computer room and sit down, flipping on the equipment I’ll need. Only when I recall that I need George’s watch to enter his passcode do I leave.

  He’s nowhere around. I search the bedroom, kitchen, living areas and then pause, lost as to where he’d go. He’s too suspicious of me to leave me alone in his penthouse, and I don’t know the layout well enough to know what hidden rooms might be around.

  “May I help you, miss?” someone asks from behind me.

  I turn to see an older man with white hair and dark skin. Jamil, whose features I recognized from the files.

  “I was looking for George,” I reply.

  “In the gym. Down the west hallway, past the laundering quarters.”

  “Thanks.” Anxious to get started with the cell phone, I hurry in the direction he indicated and slow only when I see the clear door leading to the gym.

  I’m expecting a small scale, half-assed hotel gym like I’ve seen a few times before. Walking in, I’m amazed by the size and quality of equipment. There’s a room for free weights, machines, mats, and the one where George is: a boxing room. He’s beating the shit out of a body bag, and I pause in the doorway, thinking twice about talking to him when he’s clearly in the mood to knock someone around.

  Yet I can’t leave, either. Muscles ripple beneath taut skin, bunching and releasing in a way that leaves me mesmerized. There’s not an ounce of fat on his chiseled body. Nothing jiggles when he smashes his fist into the side of the bag. There’s only the liquid flow of sculpted muscles unleashing their immense power over and over. He hits hard and fast, his hips twisting and legs shifting with each punch.

  He’s shirtless, and I can’t stop staring. He’s even more incredible than I expected. Memories of him finger fucking me return, and I’m not surprised to find myself even more turned on by the visions, now that I can at least imagine him bare chested while touching me.

  So strong yet so gentle with me. I’m not sure why that really bothers me.

  “What?” he barks finally, pausing to glance at me over his shoulder.