Finding Trust (Centre Games) (31 page)

“Please, Bray, again,” she whimpered.

He continued his teasing with his tongue. Long firm swipes from bottom to top. Then top to bottom. Enough pressure to have her on the edge and climbing higher, but not enough to set her free.

He snaked his hand up her body and settled his fingers once again over her distended right nipple. He had a hunch that it was slightly more sensitive. He made a mental note to explore that further sometime and test his theory.

His fingers pinched lightly at her nipple as he elongated his tongue and stabbed it into her channel. She tensed, and held her breath. She was almost there.

He could deny her no longer. He slid two fingers deeply into her channel and lightly flicked his tongue over her clit. The light touch after the flat tongue swipes was enough.

She let go.

Spasms of ecstasy racked through her body. Her inner muscles squeezed tightly, trying to hold on to something in the free fall.

God, she was beautiful like this. Even more beautiful with her face etched in ecstasy. He couldn’t imagine his life without her. Without her being near, just being Rihanna. Without her coming apart regularly for him.

He knew without doubt—he loved her.

Her spasms and whimpering went on.

He drew her into his arms, cradling her head against his chest. His physical need for her at the moment was off the charts. Only to be topped by his need to have her know of his love for her.

“I love you, Rihanna,” he whispered into her hair.

He’d fulfilled that need, now for the other. Hope she wasn’t feeling sleepy.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Right, so we’re agreed that the two main targets are the horses brought in for the sale and the spectators.” Tom’s voice was strong and full of control as he addressed them all sitting around the dining-slash-boardroom table.

“I think so,” agreed her father. He was sitting to Tom’s left and had been attentive throughout the whole meeting.

Rihanna was finding it hard to concentrate. Her mind kept slipping back to last night. In bed, in Brayden’s arms. It had been incredible. She’d never felt so wanton, so desired, so loved. God, she was getting hot all over again just thinking about it.

He’d said it. He loved her. She’d still been enveloped in one of the sweetest, most intense orgasms of her life. She truly didn’t know it could be that good. It just seemed to get better and better between them.

“What about the horses that come in each day for the race meetings? Why are they less of a target than those that are involved in the sale?”

Her brain registered that she’d heard Rory ask the question but she hadn’t really thought about it. Her father would field it.

“Do you agree, Rihanna?” her father asked.

Her head spun towards her father, clearly having no idea what she was supposed to be agreeing or disagreeing to.

“Um, sorry I missed that. Could you repeat the question?” How embarrassing to be caught daydreaming. She risked a glance at Brayden across the table and the twinkle in his eyes and the almost imperceptible smirk let her know that he knew exactly where she’d been.

“Dr Mason commented on Rory’s question regarding horse movement. He asked if you agreed that the horses coming in and out for the races would be less of a target than those involved in the sales.” Tom didn’t even bother to hide his annoyance at having to go over this again.

Shit, she needed to get her head together and now.

“Well, I have to agree. I believe the horses coming in for a race then leaving pose a lower risk of contamination than the horses there for the sale. The main reason being, that the horses in for races are almost constantly attended by a strapper. This means that the likelihood of anyone getting the opportunity to infect them is lower. Not extinguished but lower. I think it’s also important that we make sure we have increased surveillance on the paperwork for the entry and exit of those horses. We really need to know where they’ve come from and where they’re going to, if we should detect any exposures. In the event that there is some sort of incident, all those horses will need to be tested and the properties on which they reside quarantined, until we can confirm the infection status.”

She noticed her father nodding strongly in agreement with her statement. There, she’d not only answered the question but also raised some other solid points for thought. Not bad for someone that was finding it oh so hard to concentrate.

Rihanna felt a nudge to her right leg and turned her eyes to catch Jazz giving her a “well-done” grin. Brayden also slightly nodded his head in support.

Her father shifted in his seat, drawing attention to himself. “Actually Tom, I’m less and less comfortable with this whole thing the more I think about it. We really need to advise the Racing Board and let them know of the possible threat. We’re talking about the potential to cripple a whole industry. Hell, they’re still feeling the effects of equine influenza and that was years ago.”

“We’ve been over this before, Peter. We can’t go telling them about the threat at the moment; it is nothing more than a strong hunch. Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to get anything further out of the Chinese.”

Rory piped up. “We could always torture them, boss.” Laughter softly rippled around the room. No doubt that had been Rory’s intention. He never could stand the mood to be too serious for too long.

“Southall, you know that’s not helpful. Besides, you think I haven’t already thought of that?” Tom Anderson had an evil gleam in his eye as he said it. Rihanna knew he was a man you didn’t cross.

“I’m sorry, Tom, but I must insist we at least alert the relevant authorities to the potential of an increased risk. This will give us the ability to tighten things up around equine travel documentation and have the appropriate quarantine staff and resources on standby. To not at least alert them goes against my professional and personal moral codes.” Her father was animated in his delivery and as much as Tom could be scary, her father could be dogmatic and was difficult to budge once he made up his mind. Rihanna knew from his tone he’d made up his mind.

Tom must have recognised it as well. “I still don’t like it, Peter, but I’ll allow it. We need to work up some sort of departmental bulletin that looks official but can’t be traced back to us. Rheeba, can you take care of that, please?”

“Sure, boss. When do you need it by?” Her voice was clear through the speakerphone.

“Fourteen hundred. If we’re going to bother alerting them, then we at least need to give them time to act.” Rihanna was fast learning that once Tom made up his mind about something, he supported his decision fully and expected the outcome to be positive as planned.

Tom shuffled some papers in front of him and started to look at planning options. “Okay, let’s look at logistics for this thing. I want to split the team into three. Alpha team looking after neutralising the threat against the spectators, Beta team neutralising and monitoring the situation with the horses, and Charlie team, you’ve got logistics and support.” He sat back in his chair and cast his eyes around the table, looking from each one of them to the next. He was sizing them up, trying to decide something.

“Okay, we’ll structure the teams like this. Alpha team will be Dylan, Aaron, Angelo, Mickey, and Alison. Dylan, you’re in charge. Beta team will be Brayden, Quade, and Rory. Brayden, you’re in charge. Charlie team will be Rheeba, Selena, Rachel, and Emma. Rheeba, you’re in charge.” Tom scratched a few notes on the pages in front of him, before looking up again.

“Peter and Rihanna—I want you both with Beta team. You both know the players at this event. You both also know the virus better than anyone. We’ll need your combined expertise to spot how they might intend to spread the virus.”

“Boss, do you really think that’s safe? I’m not happy about Rihanna being that close to the threat.” Brayden had tensed in his seat and was clearly very unhappy about Tom’s intent to have Rihanna so close to potential danger.

Rihanna immediately felt her temper simmer. Surely it was her decision how close to the action she became? Just because they were in some sort of relationship—God, she was still struggling with that—it didn’t mean he had the right to interfere with how she operated her professional life. But to make it even worse, he’d gone and done it again in front of even more of his team this time. She glared at him across the table but said nothing. She was more interested in what Tom had to say first. Jazz’s raised eyebrow hadn’t escaped her either.

“Brayden, Rihanna is involved in this specifically because of her knowledge of the virus. Regardless of your concerns, we need her at the event. You’re leading Beta team—make sure she’s safe.” Tom’s words left no doubt in anyone’s mind that the conversation was over, at least from Tom’s perspective.

Brayden wasn’t happy; in fact, if she had to guess, she’d say he was downright fuming.

Silence had descended around the table. Brayden clearly wanted to say more but was resisting in order to maintain some level of professionalism.

Jazz broke the silence. “So what’s my role?”

Quade, who was sitting beside Brayden, glared across the table at Jazz, his look silently telling her that her presence in this assignment was not wanted or needed.

“You don’t have a role, Miss Carter,” Tom confirmed for Jazz.

“Bullshit, I don’t. I’m involved in this as much as everyone else now. I’m not going to sit by and do nothing,” she argued.

Tom was clearly taken aback by Jazz’s fierce display of defiance. He was not a man who was used to having his orders or decisions questioned. Jazz and Tom held each other’s glare for a few seconds. Neither of them looked like backing down.

“Fine then, you’ll be on standby to provide medical assistance. That’ll save us from having a resource sidelined keeping an eye on you. Rheeba, she’s on your team.”

Rihanna saw Jazz bristle at Tom’s reluctant acceptance of her need to be involved. Her eyes blazed daggers at him. The man didn’t know it yet, but he’d thrown down the gauntlet where Jazz was concerned. The thought that this would be interesting to watch crossed more than one mind at the table.

“Right, boss. I’ll call you after this meeting, Jazz, to go through what needs to be done,” Rheeba confirmed.

“Okay, if there are no further questions, split into your teams and start planning. We’ve got less than two days before the sales get underway.” Tom said no more. They’d all been dismissed.

***

Brayden caught up with Rihanna in the kitchen; she was pouring juice into glasses for Peter and herself. He knew she was pissed at him over his overprotective display in the meeting. Yeah, he was probably out of line but hell, he’d just found her; the last thing he wanted was to lose her again.

“Hey, Minky, can I have one, too?”

She looked at him with steel in her eyes. Yep, she was pissed off. However, she still had the good manners to get a glass and pour one for him as well.

“Thanks, babe,” he said gently, knowing he was well and truly in the doghouse.

If he had her pegged right, she’d carry on as per normal for the purpose of the team, but as soon as they were next alone—all bets were off. Batten down the hatches, he was about to cop it big time.

Oh well, these were just the idiosyncrasies of relationships, weren’t they? It would take time for them to really get to know each other. He couldn’t help his protective instincts where she was concerned.

Peter sat at the bench. Clearly, he was aware of the tension between them and as he’d been as much a part of the meeting as they had, he obviously knew why.

He cleared his throat, uncomfortable with what he was about to say but pushing on nevertheless. “Umm, if it’s any consolation, Brayden, I’m as unhappy about Rihanna being involved in the operation as you are. I don’t want her at risk in any way shape or form. From what I’ve learned, I’ve nearly lost her at least twice, maybe three times, and that simply doesn’t sit well with a father. I’d like you to reconsider, Rihanna.”

Rihanna had her back to them, returning the juice to the fridge; she spun around, clearly pissed off. “You want me to what?”

Her father ignored her anger and made his request. “You heard me quite clearly, Rihanna. I’d prefer you’re not involved or at least remain behind in the support team Rheeba is organising.”

“Not going to happen, Dad. As you pointed out, I’ve been targeted three times this last week or so.” Rihanna emphasised her words by holding up three fingers and then turning to point at each of them. “Now it’s my turn to help shut this thing down for good. I’m not going to be sidelined by either of you thinking that I’m not up to this.”

Before either of them could get another word in, she stormed from the room.

Brayden turned to Peter, who was quietly sipping from his glass. “Is she always like that when she doesn’t like what’s being said?”

“Pretty much. She’s not used to being told no. She’s always been incredibly headstrong and determined but very sensible so we’ve not often quarrelled. In a lot of ways, she’s had to be.” Rihanna’s father was looking off into space.

He didn’t say anything, waiting for Peter to continue. When he realised that the older man didn’t intend to add anything further, Brayden decided to press him for more information. He really didn’t have much insight into Rihanna’s childhood and it was bugging him.

“What do you mean by that, Peter?”

“Well, when Helena died, many would say I checked out. I functioned just barely but if the truth be known, I’d say I was a pretty lousy father.” Peter’s words were heartfelt and Brayden could see how much they cost the man. He didn’t probe. Brayden sensed that if he waited, Peter would reveal more.

“Sure, I lost my wife, but in a lot of ways Rihanna lost her mother and her father. I was there physically but I was certainly of no use emotionally to her. From what I can gather, it’s hard enough being a sixteen-year-old girl at the best of times. I can only imagine how difficult it was for her with Helena gone and me barely able to function, let alone provide support to her.”

Peter had revealed quite a lot. It provided Brayden with more points of reference. Now he was just joining the dots in a lot of ways to get the whole picture of what Rihanna was really like.

“I’m sure you did what you could, Peter. You strike me as a caring father,” Brayden diplomatically added.

“That’s a generous thing to say, Brayden, but what I did was not enough. I truly believe Rihanna has avoided relationships for fear of losing someone. Like I did. I have to say I’m surprised and pleased to see that you’ve somehow managed to crack through those walls she puts up to keep everyone at a distance.”

“You mean the ice stare at fifty paces?”

“That’s the superficial defence mechanism. The tough one lies a lot deeper. I fear she’s not letting herself love someone for fear that somehow she may suffer the same fate as me. She knows how much I miss her mother and I think she’s avoiding the risk in order to avoid the potential pain.”