His Devil's Chains by Linzi Basset

Author:Linzi Basset
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-09-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

The lyrics of the Queen song, “Another one bites the dust”, blared over the radio. As always when he heard it, the words found resonance within Jack. He’d lost so many friends over the years during combat. This was the one song that kept reminding him of their deaths. This time, the shocked expression on Lillian Dunn’s face flashed before his eyes as he killed the engine of the truck. Her death was senseless and unnecessary. His sigh carried through the confines of the cab to marry with the bleating voice of Freddie Mercury.

“Ah, fuck, not you too!” Jack grumbled. This time the vision that filled his mind was of Jordan on top of the kitchen counter as he plunged into her. He could hear Max’s taunt in his ears if he knew how confused the feelings swirling inside him made him feel. “Yeah, mate, you’ve gone and done it. Another one bites the dust!”

“Fuck off, Max. I haven’t … shit, who am I kidding?” he grunted irritably but dogmatically pushed further thoughts to the back of his mind. Now wasn’t the time to think about this. He glanced at his watch. Seven fifty-five. A quick look around confirmed that the parking spaces in front of the restaurant were filled, which meant it was a full house inside. “Perfect! An entire audience to witness how I make an ass of myself.”

Jack was surprised Tasha Alenichev chose a restaurant so far from the house they’d rented. Not to mention the fact that from what Sean had said, she dined there often and without any of her comrades present. He smirked. “Probably because she’s looking for a brawny American to keep her entertained after dinner.”

He locked the truck with the remote as he walked toward the entrance, his senses vigilant for any untoward movement. It was second nature to Jack. Something that had developed during the years of covert ops. Now, he didn’t even go to the grocery store without being on alert.

“Buona sera, signore.”

The beautiful Italian hostess smiled broadly at Jack as he stepped inside. Her chocolate brown eyes took slow and thorough stock of his physique. His cock twitched pleasantly in his pants. No man could resist the allure of a woman with sex in her eyes—not that he had any intention of humping her. He had become very selective over the years and the time of quickies with strangers had come and gone in his repertoire of sexual experiences.

“Sera, signorina,” he drawled. His lips quirked as he noticed how her nipples responded to his deep voice. He resisted the urge to tug on the tie that strangled his broad neck. He wasn’t one for suits, but Sean had insisted he dress to impress. Apparently, the Ice Princess preferred tall, dark, and handsome men in suits.

“Do you have a reservation, sir?”

“I do. David Cook.”

She ran her finger over the list in front of her; a smile split her face in two.

“Ah, yes. You have one of our best tables.

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