Chapter 13

Giselle

Giselle told herself to wait ten more minutes. If Tristan had not shown up by then, she'd leave, finish packing for Trinidad, and never look back. She still wasn't sure she owed him even that much time. He was a walking, lust-filled, bad mistake. When he showed up at her hotel room, she wanted to forget their past and screw him until she couldn't walk. But she would never let him have the satisfaction of knowing she wanted him that badly. It was embarrassing enough when they stepped away during her ceremony. Had he kissed her hard, she might have lost control and then dismissed the entire interaction on out-of-control hormones or nerves.

But oh, no.

Tristan barely had to kiss her. He made sure to touch her in a way that would leave her begging for release. Then he left the room and left her standing there fighting her inner vixen.

Damn it.

She crossed one leg over the other, squeezing her legs together to combat the growing need that threatened to consume her.

For a second, she hoped he would show up wearing an ugly suit with his hair messed up and bad breath. But who was she kidding? Even a polyester leisure suit would look good on him. And if he showed up with bad breath, there were plenty of other places to kiss him.

Giselle took a drink of water and studied the menu one more time. She'd seen it enough to memorize it, but the people around her began to stare. It felt very exposing.

"Is that seat taken?"

She knew from the chills cascading down her back that Tristan had arrived. If it only took his voice to make her wet, she might as well raise the white flag now.

"Mmm, yes, actually it is. It's saved for a man who knows the meaning of promptly."

He bent to kiss the back of her neck, and she fought the natural inclination to wrap her arms around his neck.

"I'm sorry for being late. I just got back into town." He went to the other side of the table and sat in the chair. "You look good, by the way."

Don't listen to him. It will only distract you.

She hid the involuntary smile behind the water glass in her hand. "Thank you, I guess."

"You guess? Don't tell me you've become one of those coy women who see self-deprecation as a way of begging for a compliment."

She set down the glass and glared at him. That one comment zapped all the arousal she felt before.

Asshole.

"I know I'm a beautiful woman. I see it every time I look in the mirror. Why do men tend to think women need their smart-ass remarks to remind them of their beauty?"

Tristan held out his hands. "Whoa. I guess you're mad at me."

Giselle let out a long sigh. She was being petty. When Tristan called, she said she was worried about her sister. She didn't want to tell him about Jada, but the whole story tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Not having any other leads or knowing where to look, she jumped at Tristan's offer to help.

Her family left Trinidad for the States before Jada could walk. With a fifteen-year difference and Giselle angry about leaving her friends, she didn't have much time for a crying baby. When Giselle left home for college, Jada was still young and entering an independent, defiant child, soon-to-be rebellious teen phase; they had nothing in common. They were barely talking to each other when their parents died, and Jada came to live with her. Jada's high school graduation, two years later, was a blessing. Giselle hated to admit it was the longest two years of her life.

Almost five years ago, Jada called her to say she was in Washington and wanted to get coffee. That started a four-year period of reconciliation. Last year, Jada started traveling the country to music festivals and parties. She went through several jobs and stopped all regular contact. It hurt Giselle's feelings because she finally felt like she had a sister.

"I'm not mad." She dug into her purse and pulled out her phone. "Hey, have you ever seen one of these? It's called a phone. With just a few buttons, you can call someone no matter where they are in the world. You could even call them and, hmm, I don't know, tell them you'll be late."

Tristan pulled out his phone. "A phone, huh? Is that what they call these?"

A server came over and asked for his drink order. He glanced down at the red wine in Giselle's glass. "I'll take whatever she is having."

"Good choice, Sir."

Tristan winked at Giselle. "Yes, the lady has good taste. Instead of a glass, just bring us a bottle."

A tiny zing shot from her heart straight to her already hot and damp core. This was going to be a long dinner.

The server walked away.

"When are you leaving?" Tristan asked her.

"I was supposed to leave in two days, but I got an extension."

"Your ceremony was three days ago, and you're already bending the rules." Tristan shook his head and clicked his tongue.

"Don't give me a hard time. I don't technically have to be there for another week, but I had made arrangements to be there early."

The server set an empty wine glass in front of Tristan. He poured a small amount and swirled the glass before inhaling the smell. He took a small taste and nodded to the server. The server filled the glass and placed the bottle in a wine bucket.

"So, tell me what you know about your sister. You didn't tell me much when we talked on the phone," Tristan said.

"I don't know much. We aren't as close as we once were, but she's always good about eventually returning my calls and texts. She had planned on coming to the ceremony but didn't."

"If I remember correctly, you and your sister were never that close."

"Things have gone pretty well over the last several years. She was very excited about coming to DC and the ceremony." She uncrossed her legs, tucked her feet under her chair, and placed a hand on the table.

"When was the last time you heard from her?"

"At least three months ago, she sent me a text letting me know how excited she was about coming to the swearing-in ceremony."

"Do you know anything about where she was or what she was doing?" Tristan stroked a finger along the edge of her hand.

She glanced down and forced herself not to react. She would not give him that satisfaction.

"Like I told you when we talked, she mentioned a music festival in Arkansas."

Tristan pulled back his hand. "Arkansas doesn't seem like the happening place for a musical festival."

"Yeah. I thought it was an odd place, too, but Jada told me it was a pretty big deal."

Tristan raised his hand to their server.

"Yes, Sir. How may I help you?" the server said.

"We need the check, please."

"Very well. Was there something wrong with your experience so far?"

Tristan lowered his voice. "No, we just need to go."

"Yes, Sir. I will be right back." The server walked away.

"Tristan, I'm not leaving with you." Giselle placed her hand in her lap and leaned back. "I'm hungry. If you have to go, then go."

The server returned with a small leather portfolio. Tristan handed him a credit card without looking at the bill, and the server left.

"Tristan, what the hell are you doing?" Giselle said.

He leaned closer to her and, in a quiet voice, said, "I might know where your sister is."

Giselle stilled. She knew about Tristan's new position. If he knew where Jada was, she was in trouble.

"Tristan, what do you know?" She squeezed the hand he'd left on the table.

"I'm not sure."

She squeezed harder. "Tell me what you know right now."

Tristan glanced around the restaurant. "Not here."

Giselle's chest tightened. She let go of Tristan's hand and leaned back in her chair. Tears burned the corner of her eyes.

Tristan moved his chair closer to her side and touched her knee. "I don't know for sure where she is."

A single tear slid down her cheek. "But you think you do?" She dabbed her napkin to her cheek.

Again, Tristan glanced around the room. "Let's go back to my office, and I will tell you what I know. It's not the kind of thing you share in public."

Twenty minutes later, they arrived at Tristan's office. He entered a keycode and scanned his hand on the palm reader.

"After you." He held open the door for Giselle.

They walked inside, and he closed the door behind him.

"I want you to tell me everything about Jada again," he told her.

"You already know everything. That's a stall tactic."

"I promise I will tell you everything, but I want you to tell me what you told me about your sister one more time. It's possible you may have left out something that could help us. So, pretend like it's the first time you're telling me."

"Tristan, this is a waste of time."

The cab ride from the restaurant had almost killed her. He would not even give her a hint regarding what he knew. Images of Jada's face and memories flashed through her mind like a movie. They were finally growing close and acting like sisters. Why would the universe do something like this? It wasn't fair.

He pulled two chairs to the front of his desk. "What I'm about to tell you cannot leave this office. As an ambassador, you have a level of security clearance, but I'm not sure it's high enough for you to be privy to this information." He pointed to one of the chairs.

Giselle sat in one and waited for Tristan to sit in the other. "Tristan Sullivan, if you do not tell me what you know right this second, I will make sure that every person in DC believes that you brought me to your office for sexual favors. I will ruin you."

He brushed the side of her face. "Giselle, I want to help you. Humor me, okay?"

His low, grumbly voice was all it took. She was putty in his hands and ready to do whatever he wanted.

She told him everything she knew about her sister one more time.

When she finished, he let out a long breath.

"Now, your turn," she said.

He picked up a folder from his desk and handed it to her. Thirty minutes later, he finished telling her everything about what he suspected was happening in Arkansas and how her sister might be involved. When he finished, Giselle stood and walked to the window.

"Are you okay?" Tristan asked.

She didn't have the words to express how she was feeling. Jada was a free-loving, energetic dynamo. She was a free spirit but intelligent enough to be cautious. Nothing like that would have happened to her. Tristan had to be wrong.

She turned around. "How do you know she's mixed up with this?"

"I don't, but I know something is happening."

"What are you doing about it?"

"Like I said, I know there is a team investigating it right now, and I sent Blake to help them."

Giselle crossed her arms over her midsection. "You sent Blake away? Who's watching the President?"

"She has a very capable team."

"You've never told me much about your brother. Are you and Blake close?"

"I haven't told you about my brother because it's not exactly something you bring up when you're being intimate with a beautiful woman."

Giselle turned back to the window. "It seems like all we've ever done is share intimate moments."

"And that's a bad thing?"

She rolled her eyes. This was not the time for that conversation. "What makes you think Jada is mixed up with this?"

"A hunch."

She spun around, stomped to him with her hands on her hips, and glowered at him. "A hunch? A hunch? You're basing all of this one a hunch?"

He stood up and tried to hold her, but she shrugged him off.

"I know Jada. You don't. She would not have gotten herself into a mess like that."

"I hope not."

"I'm not even sure why you told me about that. What did you call it?"

"I suppose you could call it a ranch." He took a half step away from her.

"Fine." Giselle threw up her hands. "I'm not even sure why you told me about this ranch."

"I told you because it's your sister."

She stepped closer to him. "You don't know."

He lowered his head. "No, we don't know. What I know is something in Arkansas is hunting shifters, and whoever is involved has made it almost impossible to discover any information."

"Tell me about this nanotech again." Giselle leaned back against the wall.

Tristan pressed his lips together into a thin line and stared into her eyes. "Are you okay?"

Giselle straightened and squared her shoulders. "Yes, I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I just told you that your sister might be dead or worse, being held captive at this place, and you're calm."

"How should I react? Throw a fit? It wouldn't solve anything. I want to know more about everything."

He leaned in closer, wrapping his arms around her. She kept her arms to her sides and stiffened. She would not become hysterical.

"It's okay not to be okay," he said.

His voice was so soothing, and his warm breath melted her bravado. She gulped her next breath.

He held her tighter. "I don't believe that you are okay." He nuzzled her neck.

Reality snapped in her mind. She pushed him away, moved around him, and sat in the chair, thumbing through the information in the folder again. "Tell me more about the nanotech. I thought that was just something in science fiction movies."

He let out a quick breath and then sat beside her, explaining everything again. He answered all her questions, reviewing the parts she didn't understand a third time. When he was finished, she slumped in her chair.

"I spent a huge chunk of my life denying my shifter side. I didn't want anyone to know. It took an enormous amount of energy to keep it a secret."

"I can imagine, but why did you do that?"

She gave him a closed-mouth smile. "When we lived in Trinidad, all the people my parents knew were shifters. All my friends were shifters. It was nothing to be playing in the park with kids who had shifted into their other forms and those who hadn't. It wasn't like that when we came here." She clasped her hands and placed them in her lap. "My parents told us to hide our panthers from everyone. No one could know, or they would capture us and put us in cages to study. I used to have nightmares about people coming into our house and taking me away."

He moved his chair closer. "That must have been hard."

Despite how hard she fought, tears pooled in Giselle's eyes. "I thought it would be better for us by now."

"Angela wants to expose our kind to the world."

"Do you think that would be a good thing?"

Tristan shrugged. "I'm not sure. I understand her logic, but it's a huge risk."

Giselle put her hand on his knee. "What can you do to help Jada if she is at this place?"

"I'll put in a call to Blake. I trust him, and I trust the team that's working on this." He put his hand on hers. "If she is there, they will find her and bring her home."

She met his eyes. "Do you promise?"

He nodded. "I do. I will go out there myself if I have to."

Looking deep into his eyes stirred up the longing she tried to ignore. Tristan was an incredibly hot man. Every part of his body made her wet. She wanted to kiss him and feel his body next to hers.

Tristan moved his hand from hers and cupped the side of her face. "I was such a fool for not calling you back after that night."

Giselle rubbed her cheek against his hand. "You're not the only one at fault here. I could have called you."

Tristan stood, taking her hand and pulling her to stand next to him. He placed a hand on the small of her back and pressed her closer to him. "It doesn't matter what we should have or didn't do. We're here right now, and I don't think I can let you go again."

She lifted her eyes to meet his. "Please don't."

He kicked the chairs back, moved her to lean against his desk, and kissed her hard. His mouth opened to her, and their tongues tasted deep inside each other. She mewled and kissed a trail from his mouth to his ear.

"I want you," she whispered.

He growled, lifted her to sit on the desk, pushed up her skirt to allow her legs to spread apart, and stood close to her. "You are the most beautiful woman I've known. I should take you back to my apartment, but I'm not sure I can wait that long."

She let her head fall back, and he kissed her neck down to the point of her V-neck blouse. He slid a hand under the back of her blouse, untucking it. The delicious mixture of pain, need, and pleasure settled over her, and she lost all sense of the world around her. The demand for sex her body craved consumed every brain cell in her head.

Tristan deliberately unbuttoned each button on her blouse and slid it off her shoulders. He let his hand trail between her breasts and smiled when she shuttered. He bent his head and sucked in one of her nipples through her bra. She raked her hands through his hair and pushed him harder against her.

One hand slid up her skirt and moved aside the string of her thong underwear, letting a finger trace the inside of her folds. She took off her bra, and he cupped a breast with one hand, placing her nipple between two fingers and squeezing.

She hissed, dropped her head back again, and closed her eyes. "Tristan."

He moved his finger to her clit and circled the hard nub. Her legs twitched, and she leaned back.

He stopped, tugged on her thong, and said, "I want this off. I want nothing stopping me from getting to you."

She was all too eager to comply, and together, they slid off the underwear and let it fall to the floor. He dropped to his knees and placed her legs on his shoulders. Then he let his tongue circle the places his finger had before. Her legs twitched again, and she arched her back. When he sucked in her nub, she exploded in pleasure, letting the pleasure completely blanket her.

In what felt like the blink of an eye, his pants were down, and the head of his cock was pushing her open. He pushed and drove himself deep into her, pulling out just enough for the head to remain, and then drove himself in deeper. He held her hips, helping her balance while creating a rhythm of push and pull that brought both of them close to the edge.

"Giselle," Tristan said. "Open your eyes. Watch me."

She lifted her head and did as he said. She saw the dragon deep inside his soul and opened herself to let her panther come out and play. Her pleasure increased beyond what she could handle, and the orgasm seized her body. Her walls squeezed his cock, and it wasn't long before he climaxed, and they dropped back on the desk.

They lay quiet for several minutes.

He stood, pulled up his pants, and helped her off the desk. "I'm not sure what came over me."

"I don't care."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't care what came over you. I've wanted that to happen since you came to me and asked me to take on this Ambassadorship." She placed a hand on his arm to help her balance as she put on her underwear.

When they were dressed and put back together, Tristan righted the chairs, sat in one, and asked Giselle to sit in the other.

"I don't know for sure if Jada is involved in this. But you need to prepare yourself for the worst-case scenario."

Giselle patted his leg. "I know, but I also know that if Jada is involved in this, she is still alive."

"How do you know that?"

"Because she's a fighter."

"But you don't know what she's up against."

Giselle stood and put her hands on her hips. "No, I don't, but like I said, she's a fighter."

"How do you know she can handle fighting whatever is going on?"

She walked to the door, bent down to pick up her thong, and stuffed it into her bra. "Because I'm the one who taught her."