Chapter 4

Landon studied Colette, as if by looking long enough, he could figure her out. The corners of her lips were pulled in and up, that faint smile hovering around her mouth. But her eyes were wide and stark. She looked…scared. Scared and trying to pretend she wasn't.

"You want to be taken into protective custody?" he asked slowly. If his boss hadn't been across the table, he might have grabbed her and tried to shake information out of her.

Or hugged her and asked her what was wrong, what was scaring her.

He grimaced at that thought. He was a fucking fool.

"No," she said slowly. "I don't want to be incarcerated. I want to be in the Protected Persons Service."

His brows rose. "UKPPS is run by the NCA." The Protected Persons Service was a national service that was mostly used when a local police force didn't have the resources to protect a witness.

"This is an NCA building." She gestured around them.

"This is the UK Interpol NCB which is part of the NCA, but we don't have anything to do with other NCA operations, including UKPPS." He was throwing around acronyms and technical terms on purpose, expecting her to be confused or overwhelmed. The technical structure of the UK's Interpol offices, and how it intersected with both Interpol International and the National Crime Agency was a bureaucratic mess.

One Colette apparently understood. She nodded as if she knew exactly what he was saying.

"Why do you need protection?" he asked.

"I saw something I shouldn't have."

"What did you see?"

"Information on travel routes and itineraries used by traffickers."

Landon raised a brow. "Itineraries?"

"Yes. Including the addresses of places where they stay along the way, shipping companies willing to take their cargo, and locations of the border crossings they use."

Landon straightened and looked at Director Kumar.

"Who are we talking about?" Anu asked.

"They're based in Russia." Colette hesitated on the first word, as if she were going to say something other than "they."

"And what kind of trafficking are we talking? Art and antiquities?"

"No. Human trafficking."

The words fell heavy in the silvery light.

"Mostly labor trafficking I think," Colette went on, voice subdued. "They're bringing people into Russia, then shipping them out to industrial centers all over Europe, to work in factories or construction. People from China, other parts of Asia. The Kyrgyz Republic."

Colette was no longer looking at him, but down at her legs, which were no longer crossed. Her hands slid down the sides of her thighs, then pressed against the outsides of her knees where he'd been touching her earlier.

As if she missed his touch.

Or wanted that pressure.

"Where and how did you see this information?" he asked.

"I was…unexpectedly in an office belonging to someone high up within the…" She spread her fingers, as if seeking the term. "Organization?"

Landon crossed his arms, and her lips twitched. "So you were stealing that diamond, and saw evidence of the organized crime groups' human trafficking."

"I wasn't stealing anything," she said immediately.

"You could have submitted this information anonymously," Landon said. "Interpol had tip lines."

For the first time, Colette looked truly uncomfortable, shifting restlessly in her chair.

"Wait a minute." Landon grinned. "You got caught."

Colette grimace and he laughed.

"You got caught. They know who you are, and even though you somehow got away, they're chasing you. That's why you're here. You want Interpol to protect you from Russian organized crime."

Across from them, Barry whistled.

"Your plan was to bargain with that." Landon pointed at the diamond. "You give us the Saudi diamond, we protect you."

Landon had to give credit where it was due; she'd played this brilliantly. According to her carefully crafted statements, she'd taken possession of the item in good faith, not realizing it was potentially stolen until later, and then immediately brought it to the authorities. Charging her with handling of stolen goods would be pointless as it would be thrown out immediately.

If he were still with the Met in London Metro he would have arrested her anyway, and torn through first her statement and then her life in an effort to find something to charge her with.

Landon stared at the gem. They had it in their possession, and no force on earth would allow Colette to walk out of here with it…but possession wasn't enough. They needed the information that only she had about where it had been and who (besides Colette herself) bought or stole it last. Returning it without those details would cause a major international incident.

And if that wasn't enough, she also had information on human trafficking.

She'd walked in here and backed his ass, and all of Interpol, into a corner.

Barry must have been thinking the same thing, because he whistled. "Well done."

"Thank you." Colette gifted him with a smile.

"Ma'am, I don't take kindly to threats," Anu said slowly. "Keep that in mind."

"This isn't a threat. I'm merely doing my civic duty, but seeing as my civic duty has put me in danger, I really thought you'd want to help me."

"And now a guilt trip? This is a masterclass," Barry said in awe.

Colette's lips twitched and Landon bared his teeth at his friend. "Stop encouraging her."

"Sorry."

"So a Russian organized crime group had the diamond?" Anu asked.

Colette arched a brow. "What makes you think that? I discovered the information on human trafficking while on a different appraisal job. One I took right after I began to suspect what the diamond might be. I realized Landon was the best solution to both issues."

Landon felt a surge of pride and protectiveness. Fucking idiot. Being name-dropped as a solution to a problem by Colette Beaumont wasn't a good thing.

His boss looked ready to explode. If Anu wasn't a consummate professional, she would have been screaming in frustration.

Colette had that effect on people.

She was also brilliant. She'd walked right in to the offices and dangled multiple juicy tidbits in front of them, never saying anything concrete, and when she did offer new information, all it did was confuse and complicate things.

They were losing this game, though the fact that she dropped the British accent felt like a victory. A very small victory, but Landon would take what he could get.

"Let me clarify." Anu sat forward, her tone business-like. "We have the diamond, which needs to be authenticated and, assuming it is what you say, a plan for facilitating its return needs to be made. Before that can happen, we need Ms. Beaumont's information about where she, uh, found it." She looked at Barry. "Talk to Aggie. Let her know what's going on."

"Yes, Director."

"Then we have the issue of human trafficking." Anu arched a brow. "I assume you have evidence?"

"Pictures of documents," Colette replied.

"With you?" Anu asked.

Colette shook her head, as if disappointed Anu would even ask such a question.

"You will have to give us some information," Anu said coldly.

"Are you going to protect me?" she countered, looking not at the director, but at Landon.

"Ma'am," Anu said, "we will need details in order to assess your information and justify the expense and manpower needed to protect you."

Colette looked over at Anu, and Landon wanted her to look back at him.

"I was in Novgorod," Colette said after a long pause. "That's where my client was."

Barry's eyes widened and he leaned over, whispering something to Anu. "Double check, please," she said in response.

Colette smiled. "Let me guess, you're already aware of at least some of what is happening in Novgorod? Imagine what you could do if you knew where they were crossing the border, where they were staying, and the name of the trucking company."

Landon looked at Barry, whose grimace meant Colette was right.

Once again, she had the upper hand. Landon's teeth ground together. Deep down, where he'd never admit it, he was impressed by how easily she was playing them.

"You're right. That information would be incredibly valuable. Providing us with those details could save lives." Anu was calm and collected, all hints of irritation erased. "But you want something in exchange for those people's lives and freedom."

The guilt trip didn't work. Colette kept smiling. "Yes."

"Very well. In exchange for information on both the diamond and the trafficking, we will offer you protection."

"I'll give you what you need to arrest the traffickers, but the diamond information…I'm holding on to that to make sure you don't change your mind."

"No, you will?—"

"I will not," Colette cut in, her voice firm but pleasant. "I will give you the information on the diamond once I'm safe."

Landon looked at Anu, but she was leaning in to listen to Barry, who'd been busily tapping on his tablet, probably messaging people. Anu's lips flattened into a thin line, but then she nodded to Barry, whispering something before sitting up straight and looking at Colette.

"Ms. Beaumont, Interpol extends an offer of protection in exchange for your information on the activities in Novgorod."

If Landon hadn't been looking at her, he wouldn't have seen the slight drop in her shoulders, or the way her fist, resting on her lap, relaxed.

She really was scared.

Or he was a fool, and she was playing him with every breath she took.

"In fact," Anu said, "we have a new initiative, and placing you in that facility will offer you excellent protection."

Landon sat up straight, staring at his boss in desperation. Surely she wasn't going to…

"We'll arrange for your UKPPS to be handled by Interpol. You'll be housed in Interpol's new venture—Club Alibi."

Landon's life flashed before his eyes.

"What's Club Alibi?" Colette asked slowly, for the first time sounding uncertain.

"It's a BDSM club." Anu smiled. "I hope you're not a prude, Ms. Beaumont, as you'll be expected to obey all the club rules while you're there."

"A…" Colette shook her head. "Je suis désolé, je ne vous ai pas entendu."

"Interpol co-owns a BDSM club. It's in London." Barry smiled helpfully.

"And you expect me to…" Colette's mouth opened, closed.

She was speechless. That was a first. Too bad Landon was too, so he couldn't enjoy it.

"There are residential facilities in the club," Anu said. "You'll be staying there, and I assume also working at the club when it's open."

Anu finally looked at Landon, holding his gaze. There was no mercy in his boss's eyes.

"Agent Malik is one of our leads on the Club Alibi initiative. He's one of the Doms in residence."

Colette sucked in air, going perfectly still.

Anu studied Colette before speaking. "He'll be your case manager. If you want our protection, you'll do what he says."

Feeling like he were moving in slow motion, Landon looked at Colette. Just as slowly she turned to look at him. Her eyes were wide with shock and maybe…something else?

Then she dropped her gaze submissively to her hands, and it took everything Landon had to hold still.

The idea of Colette as a submissive wasn't new. It featured heavily in his fantasies in fact. But jerking off while imagining her kneeling and needy was very different than the reality of trying to get the least submissive woman he'd ever met to act like a proper submissive in a club full of people who would know if it was a lie.

But the way she'd lowered her gaze…

No. It wasn't sign of submission, she was just processing, or thinking. Probably scheming.

"Agent Malik, I understand you're the expert on this particular issue, so I want to check with you: do you foresee any problems in taking Ms. Beaumont to Club Alibi and having her work there as one of the submissives?"

Yes, a thousand problems.

"No," he ground out.

"Good. Then I suggest you make arrangements to travel to London." Anu rose, pinning Landon with her gaze. "And, Agent Malik? Get me that information." Her attention shifted meaningfully to Colette.

Landon watched his boss walk out of the room.

He was about to take his nemesis, the one criminal he'd never been able to catch, into protective custody.

At a BDSM club.

As a submissive.

And in order to keep her safe, he was going to have to become her Master.

* * *

Colette slipped out of the NCA offices once Landon, who'd been waiting for her outside the restroom, was distracted.

She should probably feel bad for leaving, but she needed a minute to herself. As he'd escorted her to the toilet—silently while practically radiating anger—Colette had tucked a card into his pocket with her primary mobile number on it. It might take him a minute to find the card, but he would eventually.

That would be a fun conversation. Assuming he actually spoke to her when he called.

He hadn't said a word to her once they left the meeting room, and that had contributed to her need to sneak away for a few hours to gather her thoughts.

She shook her head as she walked along the brick-paved roads of Manchester. She got what she needed, but the specifics of it were wildly different than she'd imagined.

An Interpol-owned BDSM club.

Huh.

Colette was hard to surprise, but that had done it. She should probably be more worried about going into protective custody at a fetish club, but right now all she felt was relief.

Interpol would investigate Damien, arrest him and everyone he knew, and while they were doing that, she'd be safe. Once Damien was in custody, she'd resume her normal life.

And hopefully never see Landon Malik again.

The NCA offices were on a quiet street in the Spinning Fields area of central Manchester, not far from the River Irwell. There was a hotel just around the corner from the office, but that had been a little too close for comfort, so she had a bit of a walk.

It was late afternoon, and wind had kicked up. Business people, emerging from the mixture of older brick and newer concrete buildings, ducked their heads as they walked along wide footpaths and pedestrian-only streets.

Colette went a few blocks down Deansgate—a proper multi-lane road—before crossing and ducking down Wood Street. The narrow road hugged the side of a massive Neo-gothic research institute and library. The architecture might have been inspiring if the laneway wasn't also filled with bins and tips since it served as rear access for the buildings that fronted onto Bridge Street.

Colette regretted her bare legs, but she looked good in this dress, and had wanted every advantage. Her coat was more stylish than functional, and one particularly strong gust of wind had her shivering.

Colette hunched her shoulders like a local and walked faster. At the end of this block, she'd turn right and cross Bridge Street—at a zebra crossing, since Bridge Street was too busy for her to just cross where she wanted, as she'd learned on the way to Interpol. From there, it wasn't far to the pedestrian only Trinity Bridge that would take her over the river to The Lowry Hotel.

She continued down Wood Street, passing slate gray doors set into red brick on her right, while on her left the massive flying buttresses of the library, each covered in carved details, loomed.

It needed gargoyles. In France it would have had gargoyles.

A hand wrapped around her upper arm, yanking Colette into the narrow space between two buildings. The covered alleyway was less than two meters wide, and so thick with shadows it felt like night rather than late afternoon.

Colette started to scream, but was shoved back against the wall, her breath leaving her in a whoosh.

For one terrifying minute, she thought Damien had found her. She'd left clues that should have him looking for her in Munich, not Manchester. How had he found her?

All she could hear was the sound of her own too-fast breathing and the beating of her heart.

She'd been so careful.

She thought she'd been so careful.

He was going to hurt her. The things Damien had threatened…

Those thoughts flashed through her mind in a split second, her body frozen in shock and fear.

Her attacker leaned in as his hands pinned her shoulders against cold brick, where a shaft of silvery light slanted in, dispelling the dark. She could see the outline of his jaw. His dark hair.

"Landon." She meant it as a curse, but it came out breathless.

"What are you playing at?"

Her fear slowly subsided, because while Landon was certainly dangerous, he wouldn't hurt her. Not the way Damien would. "You shouldn't accost women in dark alleys."

"What are you playing at?" he growled again.

The way his voice rumbled menacingly was distracting.

"I'm not ‘playing at' anything."

"That's bollocks. You're up to something, and you're going to tell me what it is."

Colette gathered her wits and smiled, while at the same time going limp. "You sound very British when you say things like bollocks."

Before the last syllable was out of her mouth, she brought her hands up between his forearms, and then out, forcing his arms wide. His hands slid from her shoulders and she shoved him back.

She may have taken him by surprise with her first move, but when her palms made contact with his chest, his hands clamped around her wrists. She pushed against his chest, but even with the wall against her back as leverage, Landon merely swayed in place.

Slowly, he raised her wrists. She yanked against his hold to no avail, wincing when she accidentally banged her elbow on the brick. She tried to knee him, but he leaned in, restricting her movements. This time when he crowded her against the brick, he pinned her hands to the wall above her head.

Landon's legs and hips pinned hers and she hid a wince. His fingers were large and warm as they laced around her wrists and she had to tip her head back to meet his eyes. "You claim to need protection, but then you sneak out." His gaze bore into hers. "So I'll ask again. What are you playing at?"

"I do need protection. But I also wanted to go back to my hotel for an hour or two."

The corner of his mouth kicked up. "Stressful day?"

"It was." She let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Blackmailing Interpol does seem stressful."

"Aww, Landon… That wasn't blackmail." She leaned towards him, as much as she could, and lowered her voice to a whisper. "If I blackmail you, you'll know it."

His jaw muscles jumped, and for a moment his fingers tightened on her wrists to the point it was almost pain.

"You think you played me, but I'll figure out what con you're running."

"You're getting far more out of this deal than I am," she countered. "I'm giving you two cases—missing diamonds and human trafficking. You should be grateful."

"What is it?" He leaned down, bringing their faces dangerously close together. "Are the people in Novgorod your competitors? Or maybe you use their services to move the things you've stolen, and you found a better deal with some other criminal organization, and now you want your former partners out of the picture?"

The accusation stung. "I would never partner with someone like?—"

Colette cut herself off and exhaled the anger, annoyed that she'd let him get a rise out of her.

She met his gaze, holding it with her own. He may have her pinned, he may be in control of this physical situation, but he didn't control her.

His gaze shifted, softening from anger to something hungrier. Colette took a deep breath, her breasts brushing his chest. Need, hot and sharp, flared through her. She licked her lips, and watched his attention drop to her mouth.

Was he going to kiss her?

It had been years since she'd felt his lips on hers. The attraction was still there, stronger than she'd anticipated. It shouldn't have been a factor, but given how and where he was going to protect her…

It was a bad idea, but she didn't care. She wanted to kiss Landon Malik, the only man who'd ever come close to catching her.

The only man who'd ever tempted her, however briefly, to abandon the life and career she loved.

Colette pushed up onto her toes, bringing her lips within millimeters of his, but waiting for him to close the distance. He gripped both her wrists in one hand, his other hand braced beside her ribs.

Landon's lips slid along her cheek to her ear, the rough stubble of his beard scraping her jaw.

"You may think you're a better class of criminal, but you're still just a thief."

Colette jerked back, her head smacking against the brick, eyes wide.

His dark gaze glittered in the shadows. "You fooled me once, but you won't do it again."

Colette hated that he'd played her. Given that she'd done the same to him, her outrage was probably misplaced.

And maybe he thought her reaching for his lips was another ploy.

He had no reason to trust her, but her life depended on being able to trust him.

"You think you're in control of this situation." He brought her hands down, easily controlling her arms no matter how hard she yanked at his hold. "But you're not."

He finally released her and stepped back, smirking. The sun must have set, because the silvery daylight that filled the mouth of the alley had darkened to gray, making the shadows around them almost black.

"And given where we're going," he said, "you're going to learn exactly what it means to not be in control."

Relief may have numbed concern earlier, but now alarm shivered through her.

"I'll pick you up at noon. There's a flight to London that leaves at three. I hope, for your sake, you have ID that says ‘Colette Beaumont' and your name isn't another lie."

Colette pushed herself off the wall, reaching up to rub the back of her head. She resisted the urge to rub her hip. She wasn't sure since she couldn't see him, but for a minute she thought Landon looked concerned for her.

It was probably wishful thinking.

"I'll be ready," she said in a brisk tone. "I'm staying at The Lowry."

Landon had already started walking away, but paused at the mouth of the alley to look back. "I know. How do you think I found you?" His gaze raked her, up and down. "I'll see you tomorrow, Colette."