Her heart leapt in her breast. “Let’s go now.”
He barked out a laugh. “In the middle of the night, with your mouth still bruised from my kiss—not to mention other things—and my cock still hungry for more of you?” He shook his head and brought her naked body against his. “I may be undefeated in the cage, love, but I’m not suicidal. Every male in that compound would want a piece of my ass. Hmm, speaking of . . .”
His hands slid down to cup her backside. Heat licked through her veins as he kneaded the muscled rounds and dragged her into a bone-melting kiss.
Carys put her hands on his shoulders and levered herself away from what would be an easy conquest. “Tomorrow night, then. You can come by before you have to open the club. Then we can go to La Notte together, after you meet everyone.”
“Tomorrow night.” He groaned as if regretting the decision already. “I’ll do it. For you. But you’re never going to convince me that this is a good idea.”
She grinned. “Oh, I think I probably can.”
Grasping his strong nape, she pulled him down for a searing kiss. His big body tensed against her, vibrating with the force of their shared desire. He was hard and ready. She was molten and aching to be filled.
“We’re gonna need another shower before I’m finished with you tonight,” he murmured thickly over her parted lips.
Carys smiled as the head of his cock slid between her slick folds. “Oh, yeah. Maybe a couple more.”
CHAPTER 21
There should have been a track worn into the rug in Lucan’s study at the D.C. headquarters, given how many miles the Order’s leader had clocked in his pacing of the room since the news two nights ago from Mathias Rowan. The report of Ivers’s death had been a headache the Order didn’t need. But it had also opened up a whole new set of questions they hadn’t known to ask.
What had Hayden Ivers been hiding?
Had he known the Order was on to him? Had he been tipped off before Mathias’s team descended on his residence the other night? Or had the surprise of their arrival been the trigger that had made him pop his lethal pill?
Had it been slavish loyalty that made him choose death over discovery and capture? Or was it fear that had motivated him to take his own life before the Order had the chance to question him?
A hundred questions and so far, no answers.
Lucan cursed, his thoughts churning as he began another circuit around his desk. “Not a single goddamn file or document in the place,” he grumbled. “Nothing but sanitized hard drives and empty cabinets. What secrets had the bastard been hiding for Crowe and Riordan?”
“Hopefully we’ll have that answer once we figure out what that safe deposit key unlocks,” Gideon said, leaning against the millwork wall on the west side of the room.
Also standing in wait with them were Brock and Darion. Gabrielle, Savannah and Jenna occupied the chairs and sofa in the study’s sitting area near the floor-to-ceiling bookcases.
Lucan grunted and glanced to Gideon’s Breedmate, Savannah. “You think your ability can help us determine where the box is located?”
Her dark brown eyes glittered with confidence. “I’ll know the key’s history when I touch it. I’ll see whoever handled it, and where they were when they used it.” She nodded. “Yeah, I can figure out where the key will take us.”
“Good. I’ll tell Mathias to have one of his team hand-carry the bloody thing over from London ASAP.” Lucan rubbed a hand over his tense jaw. “What I’d prefer to do instead is strangle the answers out of Riordan with my bare hands. How soon before you’re comfortable that we can move in on that son of a bitch, Gideon?”
“Not long. I’m trying a new approach with his network protocols. I should know if I’m in or not in a matter of hours. Maybe a day.”
“Too fucking long.” Lucan felt the heat of his anger flash in his eyes. “Now that Ivers is dead, we’ve lost part of our window of surprise. Riordan’s either going to get nervous or he’s going to get bold. Either way, we need to be ready. We need to hit the bastard before he decides his next move. We know he’s Opus, damn it. We have him directly linked to the assassinations in Italy last week.”
“Only on the word of a dead man,” Brock cautioned.
Gideon nodded. “We’ll need more proof than that if we go in and take Riordan out on our own.”
Lucan’s fangs punched out of his gums. “If we need to answer any GNC or JUSTIS inquiries, I’ll present his rotting corpse as evidence.”
Gabrielle gently cleared her throat from across the room. “The GNC is already looking for reasons to remove you from the council, Lucan. The Order needs you there. The GNC needs you there as well, but they’re too blind to see that right now.”
He grumbled, but his mate had a valid point. As much as he despised the bureaucracy of the human/Breed governing bodies and their frequently inept—or corrupt—law enforcement arm, it was crucial to preserve some amount of trust and cooperation between them and the Order. Especially while the Order was covertly dealing with other threats unknown to any but the warrior members seated in the room now as well as in the various command centers around the world.
“Get us what we need to make our move on Riordan,” Lucan said. “I don’t know if my patience has another day left.”
As he finished speaking, a chime sounded in the foyer of the expansive mansion.
Gabrielle’s brows rose. “Was that the doorbell?”
It was. At barely six in the morning. At the Order’s heavily secured world headquarters.
Lucan tapped a monitor on his desk and a visual of the front door filled the screen. “What the fuck?”
A tall, muscular man stood outside, wearing a loose, white linen shirt and faded jeans. Shoulder-length, golden-blond hair shot with
