Agent Provocateur Read online

  Liz Maverick

  Agent Provocateur

  A Novella from the collection,

  If This Bed Could Talk

  Contents

  One

  They say you only get a few seconds to make…

  Two

  Once she had arrived at the Kingston compound—blindfolded in…

  Three

  Blindfolded, wearing a white satin evening gown, and sitting thigh-to-thigh…

  Four

  Vienna couldn’t stop thinking about that night. What he asked…

  Five

  Opening night at the theater was always a major event…

  Six

  Vienna entered Devlin Kingston’s office in the morning per a hastily…

  Seven

  Pierce Mackey’s bodyguards spent a long time searching Vienna’s high-end…

  Eight

  Soft. Very, very soft.

  About the Author

  Credits

  Cover

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  One

  They say you only get a few seconds to make a good first impression. Vienna James needed to make a great one.

  It all came down to numbers. Numbers and time. How many strikes do you have? How many years did you get? When should you make your move? How long do you give it before you run like hell?

  She gazed up at the shadowy figures of the men in the glass booths encircling the top tier of the auction round. They watched her as if they were spectators at a sporting event. As if she was the sport itself—with just seconds remaining in the final period.

  Numbers and time. How many men have told you in so many words that they could fix your world if you just gave them long enough? How many actually have?

  The odds of finding a buyer on a three-strikes sentence were practically nil. But not impossible. Seething inside that her life had come to this pathetic crossroad—where the best possible scenario would be another human being purchasing her for unknown service—Vienna did her best to smile on the platform. Not an easy thing to do when a pissy attitude, wrist shackles, and a grubby prison uniform were your only props.

  The loudspeaker instructed her to turn in a circle. Vienna did exactly what she was told, her heart rate picking up again as she finished the 360 and came back around to face the front, where a row of green lights were extinguishing one by one. When the entire line of lights on the wall went out, the auction would be over. Two out of six dots left.

  Smile, Vienna. Smile for the silly boys…oh, for God’s sake. This is ridiculous!

  She was just a weapons specialist. A gunrunner. A target shooter. End of story. This…this preening and putting her…girliness or whatever on display…it just wasn’t her game. But you had to do what you had to do. Working this hard to impress men might not have been part of her old job description, but it apparently was a requirement now. And if this was what it took to convince a buyer to get her the hell out of this mess she was in, then this was what she was going to do.

  Vienna looked up and scanned the booths again, noticing that in one of them, two men had leaned forward on the window and were staring intently down at her.

  You there. Buy me. Buy me and you won’t be sorry.

  And I won’t be sorry either, because once you get me away from here, I’ll get away from you.

  Michael and Devlin Kingston leaned against the glass of a cramped auction booth, glancing between a folder describing Docket 664291 and the woman down below—the real thing, Vienna James.

  Blond, blue-eyed, and working serious bombshell curves that even the most ill-fitting uniform couldn’t hide, the girl could not have been closer to the specifications of Devlin’s ex-fiancée, Julia, if she’d been custom built that way.

  She’s perfect, Michael thought.

  “She’s a mess,” Devlin said abruptly.

  Michael glared at his brother. “Are you joking? Look closer.”

  Devlin folded his arms across his chest, his mouth a grim slash.

  “I have a feeling about her,” Michael said. “And, come on. Blond. Blue eyes. You know she’s perfect.” He slid the auction file over to his brother. “Vienna James.”

  Devlin arched an eyebrow. “How much do you want to bet it’s not her real name?”

  Michael chuckled. “It’s the name attached to the crime, so I expect it’s the only one that matters.”

  “Three crimes caught three times. And now she’s looking at automatic execution, aka Three-Strikes policy, if somebody doesn’t buy her.” He tossed the folder back at Michael. “We’d be better off with somebody whose line of business had more to do with seduction than common illegal weapons handling.”

  “I disagree. I think Pierce would detect a professional seductress in a second.”

  “You don’t plan to train her?” Devlin asked.

  “Of course I’ll train her. I’m just saying that a little rough around the edges is a good thing.” He pointed at the row of green lights. “We need to make a decision.”

  Devlin was silent for a long time. Finally, he said, “She has Julia’s coloring exactly.”

  Michael studied his brother’s face. Though anyone else would probably miss it, he always caught the change in the set of Devlin’s jaw when he said Julia’s name. Julia’s or Pierce Mackey’s. Devlin hadn’t forgotten. Hell, Michael hadn’t forgotten either. And neither of them had forgiven.

  Michael looked down at the girl who was busy complying with a litany of automated requests blaring from the platform speaker. She turned in a circle, modeling for the prospective buyers in a strange kind of Simon Says that would have been laughable if her life hadn’t been on the line. “Maybe you need to be running the job,” he suggested to his brother. “Maybe it would make more sense if you were the one with her. A kind of repeat that he wouldn’t be able to resist.”

  Devlin winced. “I’d rather not. You’re better in the field and Pierce will jump at the chance to wreck you. It would make his victory complete.”

  The final green dot began to pulse, indicating only thirty seconds remained in the auction. Michael picked up the red line. “I’d like an opportunity to question the prisoner on the block prior to bidding.” He hung up, and a moment later an all-call message went out to the booths that a buyer was interested in one Vienna James and that the courtesy of questioning her was extended to any who were interested.

  Watching her face as the guard announced buyer interest, Michael saw the moment her courage failed. As she took in the news, her lips parted in surprise. She closed them again and swallowed, and he could see uncertainty move like a shadow over her face.

  With no competing requests filed, time ran out and the pulsing green light turned a solid red. The girl was unceremoniously yanked off the block and the clock reset for the next prisoner.

  “Well, then. You’re the people person,” Devlin said. “If you find her satisfactory for the job, buy her.” He opened the door with one hand, yanking at his perfectly knotted tie with the other. “I’m off. Fucking claustrophobic.”

  Five minutes later, the guard ushered Vienna James into the booth. “You want me to stay?” he asked Michael, per protocol.

  “No, thank you,” Michael said.

  The guard shrugged his meaty shoulder. “Then I’ll just wait outside.” He left Vienna standing there, still shackled.

  Michael looked up and watched the booth camera switch on. The girl turned and followed his gaze. “Is that for my protection or yours?” she asked.

  Michael just smiled. “Hello, Vienna. I’m Michael.”

  Her eyebrow arched in surprise. “Hello.”

  She stared at Michael, her almond-shaped eyes widening as he gave her a very blatant once-over. In person, Vienna
was taller than he’d expected. Her looks less common than he’d first imagined when he’d checked off the details he was looking for in a blond bombshell stereotype. Maybe it was as simple as the fact that she didn’t have access to the goods, but there was a natural quality to her, a far cry from the plastic sameness the women in his social circle were buying for themselves these days.

  He grabbed her shoulders and swept his hands down her arms. Her toned body proved she’d been exercising, and that she’d bothered indicated either boredom, or better yet, confidence in her ability to score an auction interview and a desire to impress. Good. She’d need both self-confidence and desire to pull off this job.

  “Everything should be in my file. I don’t have any major scars or anything like that,” she said with a slight tremor in her voice.

  “Nerves, Vienna? Or have you just not felt a man’s touch in a while?”

  “It’s not nerves, and if you’re suggesting I haven’t been pawed at recently, I’d have to agree.”

  Michael laughed and suddenly pulled her in even closer, ducking his mouth to her ear. “Not nerves. How about a temper?”

  She went silent, but her eyes sparked with an intensity that wouldn’t have fooled anybody.

  “A hot temper,” he murmured, pulling the hem of her uniform shirt up just enough to place his palms on her bare back. She gasped in surprise as he continued moving his hands downward to follow the tight curve of her ass. Michael smiled. Hot inside and out. And if his own reaction to her was any indication, that heat would translate well to the kind of passion he was looking for.

  Breaking away before she could feel the quickening of his pulse, Michael took to the chair, leaning back casually as he said, “You know, there’s something I like about you, Vienna James.”

  Her surprised laughter filled the air between them. She shifted her weight, pushing the shackles against her body to adjust the heavy metal and stared right back at Michael, giving him no ground. Her mouth opened as if she had a mind to speak, but then she simply fell silent once more.

  “Something on your mind?” he asked.

  “I was just wondering what exactly your line of business was.”

  “Import/export.”

  “What do you trade in?”

  “Agents.”

  She nodded. “I’m a trained shooter. An ace.”

  Michael gave her a slow smile. “I don’t need a shooter, Vienna.”

  “Then what kind of an agent do you need, Michael?”

  “Shall we say…an agent provocateur?”

  She blinked rapidly, like she was trying to process what he’d just said, the momentary ease between them vanishing as quickly as it had arrived. “We’re talking about sex?”

  “Seduction.”

  “That’s just sex, all dressed up.”

  “If you like.”

  “I don’t know if I like,” Vienna said after a long silence. “A professional seductress?” She took a step backward, absently rubbing at a raw spot on her opposite wrist. “This is not something I had mapped into my long-term career plan.”

  “Did your long-term career plan include dying long before thirty?”

  Her face went pale. “How long would you plan to…use me on your job?”

  He steepled his hands together on his knee, watching how she pressed her back against the door with a kind of trapped look about her. “I couldn’t say.”

  “How about we put a time limit on it?”

  Michael had to marvel at the balls on this girl. Maybe she didn’t quite understand who was boss here. “You’re actually trying to negotiate with me?”

  “I can turn the buy down.”

  “In favor of death,” he said. “Time isn’t for sale.”

  “I shouldn’t be either.”

  “It’s not a perfect world, then, is it?” Michael said cruelly.

  Vienna winced. “Just promise me that indentured servitude with you won’t be forever.”

  “That’s out of the question, on principle alone. Not to mention, I haven’t done anything to suggest I’m untrustworthy. I may be a businessman buying a product that doesn’t want to be sold, but I’ve done nothing to earn your distrust.”

  “It’s my default position.”

  You sound like Devlin. “I’m sorry for you, then.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t want your pity. Just your word.”

  “You’d take it?”

  “Sure, because if you break it, I’ll know for certain you’re a liar. That’s a good piece of information to have about someone.”

  “Yes,” Michael said thoughtfully, “It is. Though in your case, if I’m a liar, either you’re not going to figure it out for a long time or you’re going to be dead.”

  She lifted her chin. “I don’t think dead’s going to happen.”

  “Why not?”

  She slowly pushed off the door with her elbows and leaned over him. “Because I have a lot of raw talent, and I learn quickly.”

  Michael reached up, took a fistful of uniform and pulled her down even farther, their mouths separated only by a whisper. “Then prove it,” he said. “Kiss me as if it were the one thing that could save your life, and I’ll judge your talent for myself. But make it good, because I don’t have the inclination to spend any more time on this interview.”

  “Time and numbers,” she whispered.

  The tease of her lips just barely moving against his made Michael’s head reel for a moment. Time for her to put up or shut up. He pushed back the chair and stood up. “Make your move, Vienna. Or shall I throw you back into the swim?”

  Vienna sprang forward like a wildcat, driving him backwards against the glass wall so hard it reverberated around them. She swallowed hard, her eyes wide, and something about the mess of emotions in the blue of them…well, it got to him. Made him almost want to apologize without having a decent reason.

  With her heart beating so fast he could feel it through the fabric and her cuffed hands caught between their bodies, Vienna leaned in and gently pressed her lips to his for only a second. Then she pulled back just barely, her tongue flicking across his mouth as she moistened her own lips. An act without artifice, to be sure, and it ignited the anticipation down to Michael’s very core. He might have green-lighted her right there if he weren’t craving to know what was to come.

  Her lashes fanned downward and in the breathy sound of her sigh, she bit down gently on his lower lip and deepened the kiss. In a flash, the languid sensuality of her mouth over his began escalating into something more urgent.

  Raising the loop of her arms up and over Michael’s head to rest on his shoulders, Vienna eased the full length of her body against him. The top button on her uniform slipped its hole and her shirt slid down to reveal bare shoulder and the full swell of her breasts.

  Michael sucked in a quick breath, working hard to steady himself. His body was already thinking too many damn steps ahead. He hadn’t planned on giving her the satisfaction of a hard cock as proof of a passing grade, but she had his mind fogging over as much the glass around them.

  She kissed him again, harder now, and Michael could feel a kind of frenzy build up inside of him. The simple, gorgeous scent of her, the smoothness of her back under the uniform, the hot-sweet taste of her mouth…

  Ah, God. So easy to pull her clothes away, sample her body with his mouth…enter her. He wanted to take full control and drive his cock into her very core until she threw back her head and screamed out her pleasure.

  He’d played his part as long as he could. The small amount of control he’d given her—demanded of her, really—he wanted it back. He pushed her arms up and away and whipped her around, throwing her up against the damp glass. She raised her cuffed hands above her head, the metal striking hard against the pane, and he just moved in on her, taking her mouth this time with total domination.

  She moaned softly and followed his lead as he swept his tongue in and out, licking and biting her bee-stung mouth. Logic vanished somewhere in
the heat and the wet, the urgency of Michael’s desire growing as she pressed her undulating body into his in the same unmistakable rhythm.

  He moved his hand down to the zipper on his pants, ready to take her, but the harsh sound was like an alarm. Enough, Michael. Enough!

  Michael pushed her away, a little rougher than he meant to, but his body was torqued at such a high level his self-control wasn’t all there.

  Vienna leaned back against the glass, her breathing raspy and uneven, the two of them panting at each other like a couple of animals.

  Then she raised her chin, her blue eyes burning like the eye of a flame, all defiance and lust. “Did I save my life, Michael?”

  She might be nearly identical to Julia in build and coloring, but the similarity ended there. She looked like Julia, yes. But she didn’t remind Michael of Julia. She didn’t remind him of anyone.

  What a brilliant lie of a kiss.

  Without giving her an answer, Michael pulled himself together, reached over to the controls by the phone and pressed the buy button, scanned his paycard, and took his receipt.

  A knock sounded at the door. The guard reclaimed Vienna and the glowing, wanton look of her vanished immediately, though her nipples still pressed through the fabric of her uniform. “I have other skills!” she yelled as the guard pulled her out the door. “I’m a weapons specialist. Try me out!”

  “Stop panicking, Vienna,” Michael said, fighting a smile. “I’m buying you. You’re mine, now.”

  And dear God, you’re all the weapon we’re going to need.

  Two

  Once she had arrived at the Kingston compound—blindfolded in the back of a limousine—Vienna had hoped things would all be fairly simple. She’d imagined training with a squad of other auctionees. She’d imagined blending into the group until she was forgotten and then using the scheduled training runs in Center City as opportunities to get away.