Codename Summer (Undercover Embassy, Book Four)
Codename Summer
Undercover Embassy, Book Four
Malik Wanatee is an unwilling servant of the Gathosians, aliens who have overtaken and enslaved Earth. When he’s ordered to investigate a series of suspicious incidents, he’s shocked to find a connection to his past. Back on his home world he and Saroji were to marry. That hope was killed when the Gathosians destroyed his world and interrupted his “claiming” ceremony. Could Saroji now be the agent known as Summer, part of Earth’s Resistance?
Saroji is infuriated when she learns Malik has sent for her alter ego. If the traitor doesn’t realize she’s Summer, the Resistance can gain much from his knowledge. Malik is the only man who ever touched her body and tantalized her heart until she willingly surrendered control. She can’t afford to trust him, yet squandering the opportunity could extinguish Earth’s last hope.
To save Earth, they must trust and submit to one another, body and soul.
Codename Summer
Aubrey Ross
Chapter One
“So, Agent Wanatee, to what do I owe the honor of your esteemed presence?”
Malik smiled. The auburn-haired madam had managed to keep most of the sarcasm from her voice but her expressive blue eyes revealed her apprehension. “After the success of my recent mission my superiors insisted I take some time off and enjoy the amenities of Earth.” Another smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “As we both know, the embassies supply the only form of recreation remaining on Earth, and your embassy is the best.”
Autumn scooted to the edge of her chair and folded her hands on the desktop. Unlike the lavish grandeur of the embassy’s common rooms, her office was small and cozy. Her features remained calm, almost serene, while her gaze narrowed with speculation. “Do you have a specific adventure in mind, or would you like me to create something unexpected?”
“I’d like to experience one of your ‘seasons’. You are under contract with General Noirte, so I presume you’re not available, but I would like access to either Winter, Spring or Summer.” He watched her closely, waiting for the flicker of panic sure to result from his request. She inclined her head, acknowledged his statement then glanced at her folded hands.
A trail of suspicious incidents had followed in the wake of Autumn’s “seasons”. The men involved always remembered a passionate night with an uninhibited beauty, yet the information leaks and unexplained failures had no other common denominator.
“I’m afraid the ambassadors you’ve mentioned are all under contract elsewhere.” Autumn produced a thin smile. “I’m sure I can find—”
“Ulrick Brant contracted Winter, and Spring hasn’t been seen since Evard Keenan mysteriously disappeared. Who
claimed
Summer?” He made the word “claimed” sound harsh and accusatory.
Autumn paled as she worried her bottom lip. “Summer went to… That is, Summer is currently unavailable. My clients depend upon my discretion. I’m sure you understand.”
He could easily verify any destination she supplied, so she’d been wise to keep her excuse vague. “You will make her available to me or I will close this embassy. The best and brightest of your employees might be absorbed by your competitors, but I suspect the majority of your ambassadors would be forced to enter the workforce.”
“There’s no reason for threats, Agent Wanatee.” Her shoulders squared and determination reignited within her eyes. “Summer’s contract allows her to choose her customers. I’ll present her with your proposal and see if—”
“Why would you allow her such privileges? None of the other embassies have…free agents.”
“I assure you, Summer is anything but free. The seasons are special. They make themselves available to an extremely limited clientele. Only the most wealthy and powerful are able to afford their services.”
“Cost is no obstacle. I can afford any fee you set. I would prefer to be one of your loyal customers, but I am prepared to be your enemy. The decision is yours.” He pushed his chair back and stood, gazing down at her as she fidgeted behind her desk. “I require your finest suite for one week and I expect Summer to be waiting when I return tomorrow evening.” Without waiting for her reaction, he turned and left the room.
* * * * *
“He knows!” Saroji pressed her hand over her thudding heart, determined not to surrender to the emotions assailing her composure. She paused for a deep breath then leaned toward her brother and whispered, “Don’t you understand what this means? Malik knows I’m Summer.”
Ra’jen shook his head, his gaze as turbulent as her mood. He looked fierce and unapproachable in his black and silver uniform. His pale hair was drawn back from his face, accentuating the sharp angles of his features. “It’s not possible. He’s definitely up to something but there is nothing connecting you with Summer.” He glanced at Autumn and his expression softened as it always did when he looked at his mate. “We’ve all worked too hard to protect your anonymity. Besides, if Malik figured out where you are, why wouldn’t he just walk into the clinic and reassert his claim?”
“‘Reassert his claim’?” Autumn waved away the hovering waiter after he’d filled her coffee cup. “I’ve tried not to pry, but I think it’s time someone explained the connection between Saroji and Malik.”
Rather than reply, Ra’jen looked at his sister with silent expectation.
Autumn was right. She needed to understand the underlying conflict if they were going to make logical decisions. Saroji sighed, dreading the rush of emotions that always accompanied thoughts of her wayward suitor. Tall, dark and dangerous, Malik had always been able to ignite her senses with a look or the merest touch of his strong hands.
“Malik and I were betrothed when the Gathosians arrived in our star system. The final bonding was preempted by their raids but Malik still considers his claim valid.”
It took a moment for Autumn to comment and when she did her tone was soft and careful. “There are only a handful of your people still alive. His attitude can’t be surprising.”
Saroji looked around the bustling restaurant. Nearly every customer present was dressed in a Protectorate uniform. Many stole discreet peeks at their fearsome general, but no one dared more than an occasional glance. The events Saroji was relating were ancient history. Even if someone overheard them, there was nothing to be gained from the information.
“Saroji is avoiding a few important facts.” Ra’jen offered her a rare smile before he returned his attention to Autumn. “Barton and Pryett had been at war for centuries. Hostilities ebbed and flowed but neither side could manage to establish a lasting peace.”
“So Father offered me to Barton’s high king, hoping to solidify a peace treaty.” Nearly two centuries had passed and still she felt pangs of bitterness and regret. Her dreams of a tender courtship and loving spouse had been sacrificed on the altar of political duty. “Though Father legitimized me, I was born of his Bartonese concubine, not his queen like Ra’jen.”
Autumn looked at Ra’jen, clearly shocked by these revelations. “Your father was a king?”
“Our father is dead, as is our planet.” He sounded gruff and impatient, revealing the wounds inflicted by the events he so casually dismissed. “Who I was before the Gathosian invasion is irrelevant now. Reality has a way of changing whenever they appear.”
Earth was not the first planet they had ravaged. The Gathosians were scavengers, ruthless beings that obliterated populations and stole each planet’s natural resources then moved on to the next conquest.
After a thoughtful pause Autumn asked, “Then Malik was high king of Barton?”
“No. He was a favored bastard, just like me.” Saroji released a bitter chuckle as her mind swept back in time, making each memory sharp and crystal clear. “Despite my resistance, the match made sense. I wasn’t happy about my personal circumstance but I was excited by the prospect of bringing my world one step closer to peace.”
“What happened? Was it just the Gathosians that ruined your plans or were there other factors?”
“The potential union was soured before the Gathosians arrived. I quickly figured out that Malik’s character was what made him a bastard, not the circumstances of his birth.”
It had all been so long ago. How could it still cut so deeply? She hadn’t just resisted the idea of a political marriage. She’d railed at her father for his cruel manipulation and begged for him to reconsider. Then she met Malik, looked into his velvety gaze and came alive beneath his skilled caresses.
But his whispered endearments and charming smiles had masked a heart of ice. He hadn’t even attempted to curtail his outrageous behavior or be discreet with his nightly conquests. He might have been obligated to bond with her but he made it obvious to everyone that he had no intention of changing his lifestyle.
Emotion thickened her voice and tears gathered in her eyes, so Ra’jen picked up the tale. “When the Gathosians realized they were highly compatible with Bartonese physiology, Malik and the other survivors of his planet were segregated from the rest of the Protectorate. We heard very little about them until they reemerged some years later as physical hosts for the Gathosian leaders.”
“Is Malik an anchor?” Autumn asked.
“He was for many years, but when the Gathosian he hosted died, Malik refused to accept another.”
Confusion creased Autumn’s brow. “Why did the Gathosians allow Malik to refuse? They don’t seem concerned with anyone else’s objections.”
“Damn good question,” Saroji muttered. “To our knowledge Malik serves them faithfully without any form of coercion.”
“He’s not addicted to the compound?” Autumn sounded skeptical. Addiction was the Gathosians’ primary method of control.
“That’s unlikely,” Ra’jen told her. “No one is exempt from that rule.”
Their conversation was paused as the waiter arrived with their meal. The artfully arranged food and tantalizing aromas did little to stir Saroji’s appetite. Her life before the Gathosians seemed like a dream, a nearly forgotten memory. Unfortunately, Malik had followed her into the present, resurrecting with frightening ease each time she thought him dead and gone.
“Jocelyn told me you both thought Malik was dead, that it sounded like Ra’jen had killed him,” Autumn prompted.
Ra’jen looked into Saroji’s eyes, waiting for her assent before he related the more recent events. “When I was promoted to general, many facts became available to me that had been unattainable before. I learned that Malik was still alive and a member of the Gathosians’ trusted inner circle.”
“The campaign on Earth was the first time we’d been in the same star system as Malik since our worlds were attacked,” Saroji explained. “When he learned I was again within his grasp he arrested me and took me to one of the detention centers.”
Ra’jen set down his fork and clenched his hands, obviously upset by the memory. “I learned of her arrest and responded with all the authority of my new position.”
Autumn shivered, her gaze shifting to Saroji. “That must have been one hell of a confrontation.”
“The pissing contest only accelerated the conflict.” Saroji rubbed her upper arms as vivid memories flowed through her mind. She’d been bound and naked, trembling on the brink of surrender when Ra’jen crashed through the door. “They fought, and we both believed Ra’jen had killed Malik until Jocelyn told us he was still alive.”
“The Bartonese are able to regenerate. That’s why the Gathosians use them as anchors.” Ra’jen shook his head, his gaze filled with regret. “I should have burned his body, made absolutely certain he could never hurt Saroji again.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Saroji glanced away, unable to bear the guilt in her brother’s eyes. If he realized how easily she’d succumbed to Malik’s seduction she doubted he would be so tormented by his perceived failure. Malik attracted her like no other man. He called to something dark and dangerous inside her, something she was almost afraid to acknowledge. If only his personality matched his physical appeal she would have happily bonded with him. But he was ruthless and self-serving, cowardly and arrogant. He’d revealed his true colors long before he became a trusted agent of the enemy.
“I have to agree with Ra’jen,” Autumn said after another long pause. “If Malik wanted you, there’s no reason for him to play games. His demands have nothing to do with you. He’s suspicious about the seasons.”
“So what’s our next move?” Saroji pushed her plate aside, tired of pretending to eat when her stomach was tied in knots. “We can’t let him shut down the embassy. We need discreet lines of communication more than ever.”
“And we’d planned on utilizing the ambassadors once Evard’s formula is ready for distribution,” Ra’jen reminded them.
“How are the test subjects doing?” Saroji knew a select few of Ra’jen’s trusted men had volunteered to test the antidote but she hadn’t spoken with him since the trials began.
“It’s only been four days. So far there are no adverse reactions. Each man has been able to wean himself off the compound with minimal discomfort. A second, larger, group is scheduled for tomorrow.”
“Which leads us back to the beginning. What do we do about Malik?” A shiver raced down her spine, triggering unwanted sensations in all the wrong places. Her nipples pebbled and her pussy clenched, reminding her of pleasures better left in the past. She would not be manipulated by desire.
“If he has no idea who Summer is, I’ll just send one of the real ambassadors to his suite and be done with it,” Autumn decided.
Saroji shook her head. “It would take him about five minutes to realize she’s a fraud. You would have to fill her in on all of my missions. You can be certain Malik has done his homework. He’ll know every detail of every appointment each season has taken. That’s why he’s so suspicious. He’s obviously connecting the dots.”
“The real question is, are the Gathosians behind his investigation or is Malik still gathering information to present to them?” Ra’jen stroked his chin as he considered the possibilities.
“There’s one way to find out.” Malik had haunted her for far too long. It was time to resolve their love-hate relationship once and for all. “He’s expecting to interrogate an unsuspecting human female who will be unprepared for the savage appeal of a Bartonese male. I say we—”
“You are not going anywhere near him.” Ra’jen’s tone rang with finality.
