“By the way,” Simon said, tapping away on keyboards; his fingers flying, drawing my eyes. In my current exhausted state, the movement was hypnotic. “Swept the room after we increased the blocks. Found this.”

  Trent made a grunting sound and leaned forward to stare at the vid-screen directly in front of Simon; at what appeared to be a list on it.

  “Six?”

  “Six what?” I asked.

  “Six bugs in this room alone,” Simon replied, and a heavy stillness met his words.

  I looked to Trent, his eyes were already waiting for me; as though it was natural for us to seek each other out when both dealt a blow.

  “Who’s been in here, other than us?” I asked.

  “Good question,” Trent replied.

  “Not many,” Simon offered. “I sleep in here, but only when the door is locked. It hasn’t been tampered with. So, we can narrow it down to us” - meaning Trent, Simon and myself - “as well as Alan, Emir and Paul. Then Tan, Jared, Navin and Wang Jie. Plus your zebra-lookalike friend and her boyfriend.”

  “Li Xiu Ying and Zhang Yong,” I supplied.

  “Yeah, and her father.”

  Mr Li. Who had a chip on his shoulder the size of our island and was having difficulty adjusting to his new status. No longer a Citizen, but a Wiped.

  General Chew-wen had created a whole new social order.

  “OK,” Trent said slowly. “I’ll have Alan look closely at Li.” His eyes met mine, a flash of uncertainty there as though expecting me to argue. I just held his gaze with a steady one of my own. He was right. We had to cover all avenues.

  “The kids hadn’t been in here long enough to do anything,” Simon offered. “But Li stayed after they headed out to cover the watches, and asked a lot of questions. I thought it was just a father showing concern for his daughter’s wellbeing. But now I wonder…” He let the sentence trail off.

  “What about Wang Jie?” I said.

  “I’m aware that you have an issue with Wang Jie, Lena,” Trent replied carefully, surprising me because I’d thought I had hidden it.

  And then just as quickly surprise was replaced with determination. I didn’t trust the man, but there was more than one reason to broaden our focus.

  I shook my head; a dismissive Elite wave of my hand came next. I would have stood and faced Trent on even ground if I’d had the energy, but chose instead to sit up straight, shoulders back, chin lifted. Daring him to argue my next point.

  “The Lis came in here late last night, after we’d escaped the drone factory,” I said. “Had they been in here before then?”

  Simon shook his head.

  “Realistically,” I went on, “the bugs would have been placed before our assault on the factory to have alerted Harjeet in time to react.”

  “True,” Simon said slowly. “But maybe it wasn’t the bugs that gave us away.”

  “In which case we have two possible spies,” I concluded.

  “You didn’t tell Li Xiu Ying about our mission last night?” Trent asked, and I immediately scowled back at him.

  “No.”

  He nodded, looked embarrassed that he’d even asked, and then turned away to stare at Simon’s vid-screen, the tips of his ears darkening to pink.

  “So, probably not the Lis,” Simon said into the strained silence. “Which leaves us Tan’s men.” A unanimous and silent agreement between us that the spy wasn’t Alan, Emir or Paul. Or any of us either.

  “My money’s on Wang Jie,” I offered, unnecessarily at a guess.

  Trent let out a sigh and ran a hand over his face as though in frustration.

  “You trust him?” I asked, surprised it hurt that he didn’t agree with me.

  “No,” he said carefully. “But I don’t have blinkers on either. It could just as easily be Jared or Navin.”

  “Neither Jared nor Navin have the balls,” I replied, getting a swallowed snort from Simon and a raised eyebrow from Trent for my non-model language.

  “Regardless, I’ll place Emir and Paul on each of them and we’ll see what comes up.”

  “Are you going to tell Tan?” Simon asked, his voice steady. His gaze anything but.

  Tension right now could ruin us, and we’d only just managed to get to a place where there was a modicum of acceptance between both men.

  “Lena?” Trent asked, turning to face me and strangely providing me the one thing I needed most right then: Trust.

  “I’ll talk to him,” I said. I needed to confront Tan about my father again anyway. But this time it was imperative I heard everything the man had to say on the matter. I’d be better prepared than I had been before, as well. Possibly.

  “Looks like he’s just gone out with Navin,” Simon suddenly said, bringing up the security cameras showing the external park grounds of the Domain.

  “Now where the hell would they be going?” Trent mused.

  And had they told anyone? It’s not like we were on lock-down, but leaving without alerting the team of your plans right now seemed ill thought out.

  I forced myself to stand, and crossed over to Shiloh in her dedicated slot on the wall beside Si, ignoring the dizziness that assailed me.

  “Shiloh,” I said, before Trent could query me.

  “Good morning,” she replied. No Honourable, just the Lena Carr version of Shiloh that I liked the best.

  “Call Tan,” I instructed and heard the dial tone over the speakers within a couple of seconds.

  “Is it secured?” Simon asked. I shook my head. There were many things my Shiloh could do, but a secured telephone conversation was not one of them.

  “Lena?” came Tan’s voice down the line.

  “Where are you going?” I demanded, not bothering with Elite pleasantries.

  “Didn’t Alan tell you?” Relief coursed through me. Of course he’d told someone.

  “No, not yet.”

  “I gave him the heads up,” Tan said. “Just checking on something.” Clearly not anything he wanted to divulge over a telephone line that may or may not be monitored by the Overseers.

  “When are you coming back?” I asked instead of following that line of inquiry.

  “A couple of hours. Not sure.”

  “Thirty seconds,” Shiloh announced.

  “Take care,” I offered and then hit the disconnect button on Shiloh’s vid-screen before the call could be traced.

  “Where’s Alan?” Trent asked.

  “Showers,” Si supplied.

  Trent looked frustrated again. I sagged against the bench beneath Shiloh, the dizziness becoming impossible to ignore.

  “OK. Look,” Trent said. “You follow up with Alan, find out what Tan’s up to. Have Emir keep an eye on Jared and set Paul on Wang Jie. Also, advise Alan to watch Li senior.”

  “On it.”

  “Alan will be tired,” I pointed out.

  “Alan can handle Li blindfolded, Serenity Tab dosed, and with one arm tied behind his back,” Trent argued. Or in other words, in his sleep.

  Trent’s eyes scanned my face and the rest of my body then. Taking in too much, if the returning look of worry was anything to go by. Then he was walking towards me, intent clear on his face. And I was too tired to resist him. Too tired to do more than let him wrap an arm around my waist and pull me close to his side, offering support.

  Too tired to acknowledge that I actually welcomed it. Needed it. Craved it.

  “Lena has to rest. I could do with a couple of hours, as well,” Trent advised. “But when we’re back on deck we’re going to address the nation.”

  Simon huffed out a laugh. “Yes, Chief Overseer!” He saluted Trent, a grin spreading his lips wide.

  Trent just shook his head. “Not me. Lena.”

  Si’s eyes darted to mine. “Of course,” he said, all seriousness now. “I’ll have the recording ready to go as evidence.”

  “Good,” Trent replied, starting to lead me to the exit. “Keep this door locked,” he said as we stepped through.

  “Don’t worry, boss,” Simon offered, crossing to the doorway to see us out. “I’ll guard it with my life.”

  Trent stopped, turned us both to look at him. The long blond locks of Simon’s hair loose and framing his pale face. Intelligence burning behind his bright eyes.

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Trent murmured, held Si’s steady gaze, and then turned us away and headed towards the sleeping quarters.

  His words hung heavy in the air, even as we walked down narrow hallway after narrow hallway. They followed us as we took slow steps, Trent’s arm tightening around my waist when I faltered, his breaths even and steady at my side. They still whispered inside my head when Trent finally led me into his room, the door clicking shut at our backs softly.

  His bed beckoned invitingly. For more than one reason. I let him lead me to it, my mind finally freeing its hold on Trent’s earlier forewarning. Instead fixating on the fact that this was his bedroom. A bedroom in which we’d done decidedly delicious things to each other.

  Words were soon replaced with images and sensations played on a repeated loop inside my mind.

  I lifted heavy lidded eyes to his. It could have been from exhaustion alone, but to believe so would be lying.

  He smiled. It was soft but knowing, and disarmingly beautiful. Stubble coated his jaw. A night’s worth of humidity shone in the perspiration that clung to his neck. His hair was darker than usual, damp from rain showers and thick air. It stuck up at strange angles, in need of another cut, dangerously close to being inappropriate. Begging for my fingers.

  He was stunning. Gorgeous. And when he pulled away and whipped off his shirt, displaying a body chiselled by gods, he became mesmerising.

  “Why here?” I asked, needing to take control of something; when my emotions seemed so wild right then. “I have a room of my own,” I pointed out.

  “You do,” he said, starting to toe off his boots. “Can you get yourself there?”

  He knew I couldn’t. Not in my current state.

  The trousers came next, leaving him in boxer shorts and nothing else. We could both do with showers. But I didn’t suggest it. Aside from the effort required to get to the communal bathrooms and the lack of desire to face anyone else right then, I wanted him slick with sweat. I wanted to run my hands through his messed up hair and feel the night’s heated humidity on it. I wanted to taste Wánměi on his skin.

  “You need a hand?” he asked, nodding towards my blouse.

  I reached up weak fingers and fumbled with the top button. He let me give it an honest go and then he was kneeling before me, large hands covering my smaller ones, his deep blue eyes locked on my lips, my cheeks, my hair, me.

  The buttons came undone, a shiver coursing through me at the intimacy the act created. I shrugged the top off as Trent started to work on my trousers.

  “Lie back,” he instructed, his voice rougher than usual. Deeper. Huskier.

  And we hadn’t even made it into bed.

  I did as instructed, letting him peel my pants off, leaving the top of me in just my knickers and bra. The shoes were discarded as he pulled the trousers down my legs, and then he was up, and pulling a t-shirt from a folded pile in the corner, and returning to place it over my head. I reached up inside the top, once it was in situ, and removed my bra, surprised he’d given me that privacy, when it was clear neither of us wanted it at all.

  I held the bra up, dangling it on one finger before him. He swallowed.

  “Lena,” he said, in that way he had. Somehow conveying everything he felt in just my name. I’d never loved my alias as much as I did hearing it on his lips right then. “Get into bed,” he ordered, the words a mere rasp on his tongue.

  I tried to push myself back up the bed, but my arms were too weak. A fact that would have alarmed me had I been with anyone else. But Trent simply reached forward, his big, glorious body suspended over mine, and slipped his arms under my frame, lifting me up. He moved me to the pulled back sheet, placed me gently underneath the blankets, and then stood there, looking down at me; hunger and need staring back at me from dark eyes.

  “Christ almighty,” he muttered. “You make it damn near impossible to play the role of a gentleman.”

  I smiled, then lifted the sheets and blanket up and held it open for him.

  “Hold me,” I whispered.

  He accepted the invitation without uttering a sound, but as soon as his body lay flush against mine, his arm wrapping around the back of my shoulders, my cheek resting on his strong chest, he let a breath out that sounded much like an astonished hunh!

  I threw my leg over his muscled thigh, felt his body shake with the intimacy of it. Tried to keep my eyes open, to say something, to give him whatever he so desired. But I was gone. Within seconds. Warm. Comfortable. Safe.

  His answering reply was a soft murmur in my dreams.

  “Always. And I’ll never let you go.”

  Chapter 32

  I Damn Well Said It

  Trent

  Lena slept for seven hours. I woke her once or twice throughout the day to make sure her head injury wasn’t the cause of the deep state of unconsciousness she’d slipped into. But all I received in reply to my efforts was a curled smile, a wandering hand, and the test of my willpower.

  The woman was utterly perfect.

  We both needed it. Sleep, that is. We desperately needed to recharge the batteries, but when I woke to Lena laying soft kisses down the side of my neck and across my pecs, I realised we needed something else, right then.

  We needed each other.

  “Lena, baby,” I murmured, sleep still doggedly clinging to the edges of my mind.

  Then her hand dipped beneath my boxer shorts and daylight scoured the cobwebs away with one quick blast.

  I groaned. She chuckled. And then her lips were on mine, tongue hungrily seeking, soft sounds of delight and want and desire slipping out between sighs of contentment and need.

  I couldn’t get enough of her. Never would, I was sure. Lena was the light that shone on the darkest parts of me, chasing away shadows, promising such delicious warmth. She was everything I imagined Wánměi could be. Vibrant. Accomplished. Poised. Decadent. Free.

  She was magnificent.

  I rolled her onto her back, needing to feel the press of her body beneath mine, needing to reassure myself that she was indeed there. I moulded to her; hard planes against soft curves. Long limbs wrapped around taut muscles. We fitted. Fell into each other as though made for one another. Her hands gripping my shoulder and scrunched up in my hair. Her breasts, nipples pebbled through her t-shirt, rubbing tantalisingly against the fine hairs on my chest. The heat at her centre burning a hole right through me, making the urge to rock, to pump, to claim her all that more desperate.

  She tilted her hips, angled her pelvis, moved in a way that seduced all senses. Stole all thought.

  Then her hand slipped under the back of my boxers and her fingers dug into my arse cheek. Pulling me closer, tugging me harder against that part of her I wanted with such fucking need. Begging me with her body to take her, fuck her, rule her. Make her come.

  “Trent,” she breathed against my ear, sending a hot shiver down my spine. Lena’s husky purr saying my name, whispering it right there.

  I’d dreamt it. I’d longed for it from the moment I’d first heard her talk. I’d envisioned it a thousand times, some of which had been at the most inconvenient of times: Listening to her over a telephone line in the tech room at Tehteh with several of the guys tuning in.

  And now I had her. All mine. In my arms. Wrapped around my body. In. My. Bed. Whispering my name against my ear with such longing.

  “Trent,” she said again. Begging. “Make love to me.”

  Lena was all Elite. But the words didn’t sound inappropriate. They sure as hell didn’t sound model, either. But they were all Lena. This woman took what she wanted. Asked for what she needed. Never conformed to expectations. Wánměi’s or mine.

  I hoped she never did.

  I knifed up off her, feeling only a mild twinge in my wound. Feeling more alive than I had for quite some time. Feeling young again. And free.

  Our nation was preparing for war. For the final battle to earn its freedom. And yet, right here, with Lena begging me to sink myself inside her, I was completely free.

  Free of responsibility.

  Free of guilt.

  Free of my father’s nurtured rage.

  Lena gave me light and set me free.

  My boxers were off before she’d even managed to remove her t-shirt. Revealing the most glorious set of tits I’d ever seen. Then my fingers were in the waistband of her panties, dark lace and pale skin making for a contrast that left my mouth dry. I licked my lips, pulled the knickers down her legs, discarding them, and then buried my face between her thighs.

  Heaven.

  She cried out. Her hands coming to my head and pushing me closer. I smiled against her heat, inhaling her scent and then dipping my tongue in to taste.

  Divine.

  “Trent!” she practically screamed.

  Male pride and satisfaction welled up inside, making my chest expand and my dick shoot rock hard. I rolled my hips, ground my erection against the bed covers, promised myself I’d be balls deep inside her tight little pussy as soon as I’d made her come.

  “Oh, God,” she keened, her hips gyrating, her folds swelling. The scent of her driving me insane. “That’s it!” she yelled. Oh, baby, not by a long shot. I slipped two fingers inside, started pumping in time to my tongue swipes and gentle sucks, and felt her walls tighten around them.

  Then heard the sucked in breath, just before, “Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck,” as she came.

  My Elite screaming her release to the heavens. Showing the world how non-model my baby is. I couldn’t have been prouder.

  I couldn’t have been more turned on.

  I kissed my way up her delightful body, suckled one breast and then the other, all before she’d managed to open her eyes.

  Pale blue stared back at me as I lifted her thighs wide and sank myself deep inside.

  “Hunh,” I managed. I’d meant to swear like Lena had, but somehow she always made me tongue-tied.

  “Feel good, baby?” she asked, lids heavy, gorgeous flush to her usually pale cheeks, a smirk on those kissable lips that let me know she knew exactly what sort of effect she had over me.