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“I don’t care. They won’t care. Mathias will certainly understand that I needed time alone with my mate.” He caressed her face, then skimmed his hands onto the sweet ass he’d been drooling over a moment ago. He brought her against him, against the hard ridge of his erection. “I want you now. And I don’t care who knows it.”
She giggled and nipped his lip. “You’re terrible.”
“You’re delicious.”
He took her mouth in another deep kiss, then pulled her under the shelter of his arm as they headed for the privacy of his open study down the nearby hall.
Which turned out to be not-so-private.
Mathias was seated in one of the guest chairs on the other side of the large desk. Brynne sat in the other one. Their eyebrows quirked at the sight of Chase and Tavia, both sporting amber-lit eyes and emerging fangs.
Mathias cleared his throat and started to get up from his chair. “Apologies. I thought we were supposed to meet and discuss the situation in London—”
“Yes, you are.” Tavia disengaged herself from Chase’s hold, ignoring the possessive growl of protest he made. “I’m sorry we kept you waiting.”
“Not at all.” Mathias still looked uncomfortable at the inopportune intrusion. “If you’d rather—”
“I would,” Chase grumbled.
But since Tavia was already perched on the far edge of his desk, all he could do was drop into his chair and hope it didn’t take too long for his raging hard-on to subside. He rallied his thoughts—and wrestled his focus—onto the business at hand.
“Any word from your team on the ground in Dublin tonight, Mathias?”
He shook his head. “Not since the op rolled out a few hours ago. They should be in the city and heading for Ivers’s residence as we speak. My captain, Thane, will call in the status as soon as there’s news.”
“Good.” Chase glanced at Tavia’s sister. “I appreciate your discretion with this, Brynne. All of the Order appreciates that we have your trust. Not only with the mission under way in Dublin tonight, but the one concerning Neville Fielding as well.”
“Nothing I’ve heard will go any further, I assure you,” she said, but there was a hedging quality to her answer. She gave a vague shake of her head. “And I hope the Order can appreciate what both my discretion and trust—not to mention my active cooperation—may cost me, if things go wrong and JUSTIS were to find out I’m privy to any of this.”
“No one wants that to happen,” Tavia interjected.
Chase agreed. “The Order will tread carefully with Fielding, Brynne.”
“I hope so. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that willfully withholding information from my superiors at JUSTIS about possible GNC corruption could have career-wrecking consequences. If JUSTIS were to find out I’d confided in the Order instead of my own organization? I don’t even want to think what that could mean. It won’t be merely my career on the line.”
Chase could hardly argue any of that. “And if it turns out the London GNC director is dirty—if it turns out that he leads us to within striking distance of Opus and the rest of that sick cabal—then you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that you helped bring down a terror group feared around the world. A victory like that could catapult you to the top of the heap at JUSTIS.”
She blew out a dismissive breath. “I’m not aiming for a higher office in the organization. I just want to do what’s right. And that means ridding the world of cancerous groups like Opus and all who serve them.”
“We appreciate that, Brynne. And your concerns are ours as well.”
She glanced between Mathias and him. “How soon do you anticipate Lucan will want to begin his reconnaissance on the director?”
“Soon,” Chase said. “Days at most. Right now, Fielding has no idea we’ll be watching. We want him to stay that way. We want him comfortable until the moment we’re ready to strike.”
Brynne nodded. “He won’t be paying much attention to anything this week. Fielding’s daughter got engaged. The director and his wife are hosting a party for her this weekend at their new home.”
Tavia arched a brow. “Their expensive new home they shouldn’t be able to afford?”
“That’s the one,” Brynne replied. “They’ve invited half of London, including many of us in JUSTIS.”
Mathias sent a sardonic look at Chase. “Nothing in my mailbox. I feel slighted.”
Chase smirked. “You should be getting used to it. The Order is never on the invitation list for these things.”
“More’s the pity,” Mathias drawled, chuckling. His phone chirped with an incoming call. “It’s Thane.”
Everyone fell silent as Mathias took the call from his operation’s team captain. He mostly listened, and from the expression on the London commander’s face, the news wasn’t good.
