This place was hell on earth. Cal sat with a Russian oligarch who wanted to buy stolen antiquities as Cal was doing his best to charm a would-be Congolese despot into granting him a diamond-mining claim on a river in his mother’s birth country all while watching a sex show put on by women—at least one of whom wasn’t willing.
Twice, he was offered to partake of the offerings on the chaise. He refused on the grounds that he preferred Jamie’s highly skilled blowjobs over virgins and hoped to hell they’d quit asking. He also hoped they wouldn’t comment on the fact that Jamie had been gone too long with Anton for a jealous guy like Mani to be comfortable.
But he played his role because their lives depended on it. He wanted all these bastards to burn in a rain of hellfire. To make that happen, Savvy needed to do her job.
“Diamond mining is hard work,” Gorev said in English. He’d gotten irritated with the lengthy conversation he couldn’t understand, but Cal suspected Lubanga had wanted to test his fluency, to see if he was legitimately connected to Congo.
“I’ve got workers lined up,” Cal responded.
“It’s hard to keep workers motivated,” Gorev said.
Cal held the Russian’s gaze. “I know a hundred women and children in South Sudan who are desperate to eat. I can pay them next to nothing and they’ll be grateful for it.”
“You’ll need guards,” one of Gorev’s associates said. “They’ll steal your diamonds.”
“I was in the US military. I know some guys. Badass. Pissed at the world. No one fucks with my men.”
“I have a man who will manage your operation. Oversee your guards,” Lubanga said. “He will inspect every diamond. I get half the carats pulled from the river.”
“A third,” Cal said, knowing Lubanga expected pushback.
“Half. Or you get nothing.”
“I’m the one paying the workers. Paying the guards. Taking all the risks. Without my workers, you’d have half of nothing.”
“There are a dozen men here who would like this mining claim. They will give me half,” Lubanga said.
Cal scanned the room. The men here were drinking and watching the sex show or fucking in the private rooms. “These men are easily distracted. They lack motivation. I wouldn’t count on them to deliver a pile of dog shit. A third.”
“Sixty/forty.”
“Sixty-five/thirty-five,” Cal countered.
Lubanga stared at him. Eventually he leaned back and said. “Done.”
Cal was surprised he’d agreed, but then, Cal didn’t really give a damn about the terms. He’d just wanted to draw out the conversation. Savvy needed to get back here soon, because now that that piece of business was done, he’d need to show irritation with her long absence.
Gorev reached for the Egyptian pendant that Cal had refused to sell until after the diamond concession had been negotiated. “Where did you get this?” he asked.
Cal gave a slight shake of his head. “So you can go direct to my source? I don’t think so.”
“I will give you fifty thousand for it.”
“It’s worth five times that.” He mentally apologized to Morgan, who would freak if she knew he was assigning values to artifacts.
“Sure, if it were a legal sale at Christie’s,” Gorev said. “You are new to the antiquities market. You’ll never get that much.”
Like the diamond claim, Cal didn’t care about selling. He just wanted to draw out the negotiation to give Savvy time. “A hundred and fifty grand.”
“A hundred,” Gorev said. “But only if you throw in the girl.”
Sweat broke out on Savvy’s brow. The device managed to bypass Lubanga’s password to upload files to her cloud, but she couldn’t read the files, not until after they were uploaded and she was on her own computer. All she could see was the list of files being uploaded.
She had no idea what the file said. Had someone in the CIA tipped Lubanga off? Did he know Cal was a Green Beret? That she was SAD?
Precious seconds ticked by as her mind raced with possibilities. If Lubanga knew their aliases, they were dead.
Shit. She and Cal had to leave. Now.
A noise sounded in the hall. A footstep?
There was only one excuse she could use for being in this room. She pulled her dress over her head and dropped it on the floor.
Only seventy-five percent of the hard disk had uploaded to her cloud. It would have to do. She closed the laptop and yanked the gadget from the USB port and tossed it out the porthole, then climbed on top of the bed, draping herself seductively, wearing nothing but the expensive lingerie she’d purchased in Nairobi a few days ago.
The door was shoved open fifteen seconds after she’d assumed her pose.
She flashed a seductive smile, as if she expected to greet Lubanga, then pouted at seeing one of Gorev’s security guards. “Where is Jean Paul? I’ve been waiting forever.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for Jean Paul. He told me to come here.”
“Mr. Lubanga doesn’t screw whores.”
“I’m not a whore!” She smiled and spread her legs for him. “I’m a courtesan.”
He yanked her arm and pulled her from the bed. “Mr. Lubanga can decide what to do with you.” He dragged her to the door.
A shriek in the hall caught everyone’s attention. Dread shot down Cal’s spine. Savvy had been caught.
He glanced toward the archway, keeping his gaze coolly indifferent. Curious. A guard dragged her through the opening.
He bolted to his feet. Shit. She wore nothing but a triangle of sexy lace over her crotch and a matching bra filled with her perfect breasts. She had an athletic build, faintly defined abs. More Sports Illustrated than Victoria’s Secret model. Strength and beauty. He hoped everyone was distracted enough by her round breasts and ass and failed to see her as a threat.
“What the fuck is going on?” he asked as he shoved at the guard who was manhandling her.
The guard didn’t budge.
Cal elbowed him in the face, a quick jab to show he meant business. “She’s mine.”
The guard fell back, releasing her.
Freed, Savvy tried to crawl away. She let out a convincing sob as she cowered, not from the guard, but from Cal. “I’m sorry, Mani.”
It was vital he stay in character. He narrowed his gaze and loomed over her. “What the fuck did you do, Jamie?”
Blood dripped from the guard’s nose. “I found the bitch in Mr. Lubanga’s cabin. In his bed.”
He swung his gaze back to Savvy. “In his bed?” His voice came out low and angry. “In his fucking bed?” He grabbed her hair and pulled her so she was on her knees before him. “Were you trying to replace me?”
“No! I just thought…” She looked down and let out a sob. “I’m sorry…”
There was no room for softness here. The salon had gone silent. Even the sex show had ceased. Every eye was on him and Savvy. Mani Kalenga was ruthless. Nasty. And violent.
“You ungrateful whore.” He raised his arm and backhanded her across the face. Full force. The big gaudy ring on his finger connected with her cheekbone.
The slap of skin to skin was horrific. A sound he was certain to relive in his nightmares for the rest of his days.
Her head snapped back, and she toppled to the floor again. She stared dazedly up at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure if her reaction was real or not.
His hand stung from the blow, and he shook it out as he watched a tear spill from her eye. She cupped her cheek, then her gaze snapped into focus, and she attempted to crawl backward, on her back, like some sort of messed-up crab walk of terror.
She was trying to get away from the brute who’d hit her. From him. And Mani would never let her get away with something like that.
He grabbed her hair and jerked her to her feet. “You worthless whore.” He delivered the words in a cold, low tone, the one his asshole uncle had used when he’d had too much to drink and got violent. He would stand on the front lawn and demand his children and wife stop hiding in Cal’s house and get their asses home, leaving only when Cal’s dad stepped on the porch with a shotgun and told his sister’s husband to get the hell off his property.
Tonight, Cal had to channel his inner Uncle George.
“You think you can dump me for someone richer? You think I’ll let you go that easy?” He grabbed her ass and pulled her to him. “You’re mine until I’m done with you.”
His arm was a vise across her back. With his other hand, he cupped the back of her head and further brutalized her, this time with an angry, forceful kiss.
She struggled against him, but he held her close, kissing her with violence so he wouldn’t have to hit her again.
It was one or the other—more blows or violent kisses.
Her struggles slowed and then transformed. She gripped the lapel of his jacket and kissed him back. Her tongue was hot and insistent in his mouth.
Was she acting? It didn’t feel like an act. Didn’t taste fake. Her mouth was sweet and urgent on his, and to his horror, he went rock hard.
She let go of his lapels in favor of circling his neck. She rubbed her body against his, and he wanted to strip, to be skin to skin.
Jesus. They needed to get out of this ballroom. Off of this boat. He dragged her toward one of the private rooms, to the disappointed shouts of several of the men. He pushed her through the door, then slammed it closed and locked it.
Dammit, this was no refuge. It was little more than a cell. With cameras. A dead end.
Was their only choice now to have sex in front of cameras? He wanted to be inside her. Hell yeah, he wanted her. But not like this. Not for the titillation of others. Not playing a role.
Cassius wanted to have sex with Freya. Not Mani and Jamie. Not even Cassius and Savvy. He wanted Freya. And Freya wasn’t in this room. Nor was Cassius.
He planted his mouth on her neck as he backed her up against the wall. He lifted her, wrapping her thighs around his hips. His erection settled between her thighs. He rocked his hips, making them both feel good with the friction.
She made a sound low in her throat.
“I want you,” he whispered as he kissed her neck and nipped her earlobe. “But not like this.”
“I know.”
“What do we do?” He covered her mouth with his. Cameras. He couldn’t forget the cameras. He couldn’t make it obvious they were talking.
Her tongue stroked his as his erection pressed to her clit.
Jesus. Kissing her was intense. Touching her was even better.
“Mimic?” she whispered. “Or…I could go down on you.”
He groaned. He wanted that. Had fantasized about it for months. But not like this. Never like this.
He kissed her again. He’d just have to risk dragging her out of the room and off the boat. It was the only solution he wouldn’t regret. If they lived long enough to look back on this night.
She slid a hand between them and into his pants. She wrapped her fingers around his cock, and he thought his eyes might roll back in his head. He knew she was trying to make this easier for him. His body blocked the cameras. No one could see her hand on his cock.
“Let me suck you, Mani,” she said loud enough for the recording devices to pick up. “Let me make it up to you.”
Her hand felt so good, and this situation was utterly twisted.
Behind him, the door burst open. Flimsy fucking locks.
Before he could set Savvy down, he was yanked backward and Savvy ripped from his arms. She dropped to the floor.
Anton. Fuck. He’d forgotten about Anton. She must’ve done something to ditch him.
The guard he’d elbowed in the face was more than happy to take a swing at Cal while Anton went after Savvy.
“You fucking bitch!” Anton shouted as he backhanded her.
White-hot rage shot through Cal. Revulsion rose too. He’d done the same thing minutes ago. He lunged toward Anton, but the guard nailed him in the stomach, then pushed him back.
“I will fuck you while your American watches.” Anton yanked her head back, exposing her throat. “Then I will cut you right here.”
Cal elbowed the guard in the gut, then shoved his head into the wall. The guard dropped, unconscious, clearing the path to Anton.
Anton’s hands were fumbling with his fly as Cal came at him. Cal yanked him away from Savvy and grabbed him by the throat. He slammed his back against the wall. “Touch her again, and I will rip your fucking throat out.”
A knife appeared in Anton’s hand. He slashed toward Cal’s stomach. Cal turned the blade back and shoved, his hand wrapped around Anton’s on the knife. The long, sharp blade pierced Anton’s gut with ease.
“I told you she’s mine.” He jerked on the Russian’s wrist, making sure the knife cut a wide swath through his belly. Blood poured over Cal’s hand, soaking his sleeve and spilling onto his jacket and shirt.
Anton slumped forward, mouth open in shock. He slowly slid to the floor.
Cal took Savvy’s hand. “Time to go.”
She nodded. Her eyes had the glazed look of shock, even horror. He’d bet it was an act. But damn, she was good. She gave a slow, almost numb nod and followed him out the door, her hand clasped in his.
All eyes followed them across the room as he approached their host. Still holding Savvy’s hand, he picked up the pendant with his other hand, smearing it with Anton’s blood. “A hundred and ten. And the girl is mine.”
The Russian nodded. “Done. Leave the pendant. Money will be delivered to your hotel.”
“No. I want the money now.” He slipped the pendant in a blood-soaked jacket pocket and turned for the door.
“Fine,” Gorev said. “You will have it now.”
Cal turned to see Gorev nod to a servant.
Precious minutes ticked by as they waited. He should have left the artifact and allowed the money to be delivered. He hadn’t because it would have looked suspicious. Same with just walking out, leaving the artifact behind.
Savvy stood meekly at his side, leaning against him. He wrapped an arm around her waist, reminding him she was nearly naked. “She needs her gown.”
Lubanga was silent for a long moment, then said, “No. If it is in my stateroom, it is mine.”
He really couldn’t argue that point.
A servant arrived with stacks of hundred-dollar bills in a briefcase. Gorev counted out eleven stacks. Cal flipped through them to make sure they were all hundreds and dropped them in a cloth sack the servant provided. He then set the pendant on the table. Transaction complete, they turned to leave.
“We haven’t discussed the other artifacts,” Gorev said.
Cal didn’t bother to turn back. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Meet me in Kinshasa in a week, Mr. Kalenga,” Lubanga said. “I will have the paperwork for your mining claim drawn up and ready to sign.”
Cal gave a sharp nod. He and Savvy escaped the ballroom at last.