A Dom Is Forever (6 page)

So sweet. So innocent. So fucking naïve, but he intended to use that innocence to his advantage.

Patience. She required patience. She’d touched him on her own for the first time today. She wrapped her arms around him, and her breasts had brushed his chest. He’d hugged her before, but she’d initiated the affection this time.

What he wouldn’t do to be able to slam her on his desk and shove his cock deep. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted a woman. She was rapidly becoming his obsession.

She disappeared around the corner. It was for the best since if he did haul her into his arms and toss her on the desk, it might give away his game.

When he was sure his office door was locked, he shut the blinds and let the cane dangle from the side of his desk. Fucking cane. Fucking wheelchair. He didn’t need either one, but Thomas Molina’s disabilities came in handy from time to time. Too bad the poor old boy was in the ground thanks in part to his own dear brother who had seen a good opportunity when it offered to bankroll his partying ways.

Brian Molina had been a hopeless drug addict. He’d hid it pretty well, but he’d do anything for another hit. Even kill his brother and allow someone else to assume his identity for perfectly nefarious reasons. It was really too bad that Brian had finally met the needle that didn’t love him back. One dose of pure uncut China White and there were no
Molinas
left to claim he wasn’t exactly who he said he was.

He’d been Thomas Molina for years. The poor cripple had been so isolated and secluded no one had questioned him at all when he’d taken over the United One Fund. A little weight gain. A lot of plastic surgery and he’d become wealthy and powerful and deeply interested in the plight of people in war zones.

Yes. He liked war zones. War zones were the perfect retail grounds for what he liked to sell. Guns. Mines. Grenades.

Now bio weapons. Yes, that was the wave of the future. A good bio weapon could wipe out a population and leave the infrastructure standing, waiting for the victors to take over. He was the bloody motherfucking pimp daddy of warfare. And he had the perfect shipping system. No one checked United One Fund’s shipments. No one thought to question the saint of the Western world.

He smuggled weapons into war zones under the veneer of lending aid to all the children.

Fuck children. He didn’t want them or need them, though lately he had started to believe that Thomas Molina would do well with a wife. Sweet, naïve, been-there-before Avery wouldn’t even question why he left the light off when he fucked her. She would believe him. She wouldn’t question him because he’d become Thomas Molina in every way.

And all with the help of the finest institution known to man. The bloody CIA. Well, maybe not the whole CIA, but with the help of one righteous bastard of an agent, he’d gone from pathetic errand boy to running a black market weapons empire.

It was supposed to be a get-rich-quick scheme. The trouble was, he’d found he rather liked the game. He liked being Thomas Molina. He liked the wealthy parties and the elegant gatherings. He liked the way Avery looked at him.

He couldn’t fool himself. He’d fallen under her spell. There was something about her that simply called to him. He would have the little fool all to himself, but she wasn’t going to change his plans.

It would be best, however, if she had no ties to her past life. Her continuing obsession with gaining forgiveness from her former in-laws kept her too much in their world. And he would definitely prefer she have no family beyond him when he finally brought her into the fold.

A quick phone call and it was done. He had to remind them every now and then of just how much Avery had hurt them. The wounds ran deep, but it was good to open them back up every now and then. The last thing he wanted was for Avery to get close to anyone but him. He would take her with him all over the world, never staying in one place more than a month or two. She would be forced to cling to him. The travel would bond them together. Eventually he could even “find” a cure for his ailment and be normal around her.

But first he had to deal with the Lachlan Bates situation. He opened the folder and picked up the small scanner from his desk. His personal files were more important than anything else. The scanner immediately sent the file to his tablet, and then he would lock up the original at his town house.

Lachlan Bates wasn’t a man, but a code. He had a shipment going out next month. Lachlan Bates was the carefully selected code for a new buyer. The amount of the donation was code for the type of arms, number of each type, and country of delivery. In this case, the buyer was very interested in Thomas’s large shipment of
P90s
and several other high-priced items.

It was perfect. It meant his next shipment would be full. It meant he would be bringing in about ten million.

Taking over Thomas Molina’s life had brought him a nice stash of cash, but turning his charity into an arms retailer was going to bring him what he truly craved. Power.

He would have the power, and he would have the woman he wanted, too.

Avery was sweet, perfectly innocent.

It was up to him to see just how much he could corrupt her. He looked forward to the job.

But first he had to deal with the problem of Eli Nelson. Fuck but he wished the former CIA agent hadn’t gotten exposed. The man was quickly becoming a pain in his ass.

And Thomas didn’t like pains in his ass.

The next day, Avery stared at the mummy in his glass case, but her mind kept flitting to other things. She thought about her dinner the night before. Adam and Jake were such a cute couple. She hated to admit it, but she’d enjoyed hearing American accents again. Adam had made a heavenly dinner, and she’d briefly forgotten how lonely she was. She was trying not to think about it today.

The Egypt Gallery held many wonders, some as lovely as the Greek and Roman rooms, but the mummies were definitely interesting in a less aesthetically pleasing way. She was standing in a room with a person who had lived centuries before. Millennia. A deep connection to a distant past. She was being fanciful, but it was her day off. She could let her mind do that wandering thing it so often did and not be worried she would screw up a big deal like the one with Lachlan Bates that Thomas had taken off her plate. It had been odd. He usually didn’t like to take care of things himself. He had told her on many occasions that he’d hired her so he didn’t have to talk to people.

But she was relieved he was taking more of an interest in their donors. Maybe it meant he would be more sociable. And it wasn’t like he never talked to donors. He’d pulled three files from Monica’s desk this year, all over a million dollars.

She let it go. She wasn’t going to think about work today. She was going to spend the afternoon staring at mummies.

She really wasn’t in Kansas anymore. Not that she’d ever actually been in Kansas. She was from New York, but it seemed an appropriate thing to say. Think. Unless she’d actually said it out loud. Avery glanced around, but no one was looking at her like she was a crazy person. Her impulse control issues were much better hidden in big cities. No one noticed the girl who talked to herself when there were so many actually real crazy people walking around. Just earlier in the day she’d had a conversation with a man on the Tube who believed he was Henry the Eighth and wanted his Tower back.

Yes, she should go see the Tower of London. Definitely.

Mummies. She forced herself to concentrate. She felt a smile cross her lips. It was so much nicer when her rambling thoughts were about mummies and historical sites than bedpans and whether or not her legs would ever work again. Or where her baby was now that she wasn’t in her arms.

“It can’t be all that bad. I don’t think he minds being stuck in here.”

Avery started, a deep voice pulling her from the edge of a very dark thought. She turned on her heels and, as any sudden movement was likely to do, her weak leg buckled underneath her. She started the long trip to the ground, except this time she was headed straight for the ancient, probably priceless, mummy. God, she was going to set off all kinds of alarms and get kicked out of the museum and maybe out of England, and then she would have to find a new job and who would want a woman who’d been arrested for molesting mummified corpses?

And just like that, she stopped. Two big arms wrapped around her, lifting her away from the oncoming chaos. “You okay?”

Without even thinking about it, her arms drifted up and around his neck, fingertips brushing warm, deliciously firm skin. The dark-haired man she’d seen before, the one she’d fantasized about last night, held her in his arms. Curly, midnight-black hair and emeralds for eyes. He was dressed for sin in a black motorcycle jacket and a T-shirt that molded to his very well-defined chest. Did he have to buy them one size too small? Did he have to walk around like a big old gorgeous man cupcake when she’d been on a diet for so long?

“Lost the power of speech? Well, that guy’s ugly mug would do that to me, too.”

She’d thought for sure he was British. She’d fantasized about a lyrical accent coming out of his mouth, but no, his voice was pure Midwestern American. And she should say something since the man was still standing there holding her like she was his virgin bride or something. Virgin. She wasn’t. Unless it grew back after too many years of vaginal disuse.
God, say something, Avery.
“I’m so sorry.”

His lips curled up in a flirty little smile. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was the single most beautiful man she’d ever seen. Even if that smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I think I’m the one who should apologize. I didn’t mean to startle you. It just seemed like it was time that I should talk to you. I’ve been following you around for days. We seem to have the same tastes in museums.”

He’d noticed her, too? That was odd. She typically blended into the background, when she wasn’t falling down. She was well aware she wasn’t a great beauty. She wasn’t horrific, but she fell into a bland attractiveness that usually required a forceful personality to go along with it in order to be truly pretty. She wasn’t exactly aggressive. She was more a “watch from a distance and dream” kind of girl.

There was no distance between them now. None at all. She could feel the heat of his body against hers, the hardness of his form. How long had it been since she’d been held? Touched? Nothing for years that didn’t include a therapist massaging muscles to keep them from atrophying. Her mother-in-law hadn’t touched her once since she’d discovered what Avery had done. No more motherly hugs. Even the few friends she’d had back home had treated her like she was fragile. No touching allowed or someone would break Avery. Gorgeous Green Eyes didn’t seem to think she would break. His arms were tight around her body, cradling her to his chest.

“Can I put you down? Do you think you can stand?”

She felt herself flush. She was making a complete idiot of herself. He’d only reached out because she’d fallen. Again. Would she ever again feel like she had control over her body? “Yes. I’m fine. I’m so sorry for the whole nearly killing a mummy thing.”

He set her on her feet, holding her until he seemed sure she was steady. He smiled down at her, definite amusement in his eyes. They seemed so much warmer now than a moment before. “I think he’s already dead, sweetheart. Now on the other hand, you nearly gave the security guy a heart attack.”

She gasped and looked around. Sure enough, there was the museum employee in his suit coat with his walkie-talkie at his side. His face was slightly flushed, but he’d taken his place again.

“Think nothing of it, ma’am. Women faint dead away at the sight all the time.” The security guard winked her way.

Avery gave him a smile. “Well, maybe Egypt is too much for my constitution. I think I’ll just go have some lunch and fortify myself against the sight.” It was really time to retreat. Deep breath. Confident smile. She turned back to the
hottie
. That’s what all the girls back in the New York offices called someone who looked like Green Eyes.
Hotties
. They were right. She could really use a fan. “Thank you so much for the save.”

“Not a problem.” He seemed to be waiting on something.

It was an awkward moment, but then much of her life was made up of them. “Good-bye.”

She turned carefully and hoped she could make a graceful exit.

“So what sounds good? I think there’s a fish and chips place across the street.”
Hottie
kept pace, not that it was hard for him. He was so much taller. He probably took one stride to her two slightly awkward ones.

She stopped. He was doing the flirting thing. Why? He was obviously out of her league. She wasn’t good at stuff like this. He was far more gorgeous than Simon, and she couldn’t figure out why he was pursuing her beyond the obvious career implications. This guy didn’t even know her name. She decided to try to be polite. Maybe he just felt sorry for her. “Thank you for the offer. I really can make my way. Thanks so much for the save.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, not moving at all. He simply stood in front of the stairs, blocking her way. “You don’t like fish and chips? You do know you’re in England, right?”

“Yes, I know I’m in England.” Flustered. He was making her flustered. “I like fish and chips just fine.”

He smiled broadly. “Excellent. I could use a pint. I need some fortification before we get back to the mummies, too. Seriously, these are some ugly dudes. Why would anyone want their body to last this long? I want to immediately be cremated.”

“It was part of their religion. They needed a body if they were to go to the afterlife. I’m pretty sure they didn’t imagine they would end up in a museum thousands of miles away with tourists ogling them.” She started to make an argument about tolerance for other religions, but that was really beside the point. “I didn’t ask you to go to lunch with me.”

He nodded, leaning out of the way so others could come into the hall, but still blocking her advance. “Yes, you forgot to. I admit it was a little rude, but I’ve decided to believe that you were just a little distracted after your near miss with old Tut back there.”