Page 148 of Wild Mustang Security Firm

“What can I tell you, Noah, the heart wants what the heart wants, and I think I wanted Finn from the beginning. Funny thing is, you’d think I would have had this great epiphany after we’d made love, but it wasn’t,” he laughed, “until about midway through the first time I had her over my knee. I think from that point on, it was all over but the shouting… for both of us.”

“Until she decided to convince herself differently.”

“Yeah, right up until then.”

“Look at it this way. It took five years for Mac to get Willa back, and he knew where she was.”

“You have a point,” Croft said before falling silent.

The two men settled down to get what sleep they could for the rest of the flight. Sleep came easily to Noah, but Croft had too much on his mind. He worried Finn might still be in danger and even more so that she would be able to convince herself the two of them were simply not meant to be.

“Gentlemen,” Avery called from the cockpit, “Please buckle up. We’ll be landing at Gatwick in a few minutes. Thom put us up in a suite at the Amba Hotel, which is close to the Savoy.”

They were lucky customs moved them through the line quickly, and within ninety minutes of arrival, they were set up in their room. Thom had confirmed Finn was indeed at the Savoy, but the hotel either didn’t know her departure date or was not inclined to reveal it.

Her departure will be right after I take her upstairs and deal with her.

Croft’s plan to deal with her was a spanking she wouldn’t forget anytime soon, then fuck her so hard and so many times, she’d have trouble walking.

Finn settled into the Savoy, her favorite hotel in all the world—Old World charm and elegance with a staff second to none. She was looking forward to having dinner with Zara. Their friendship went way back, and Finn figured not only was Zara good as a sounding board about Croft but might well be interested in what Finn thought could be a huge story. They had teamed up several times in the past and enjoyed great success.

Upon arrival, Finn had asked the concierge to recommend a shop that would have something appropriate for her to wear to the Savoy Grill. The dress code had been relaxed, but Finnthought something fancier than jeans or leggings with a T-shirt or sweater was called for. Within the hour, a salesperson from a small boutique appeared with several casual outfits appropriate for dinner, and Finn felt she could integrate into her wardrobe at home. She also asked if they could supply her with a carry-on bag for her return flight home. For dinner, she opted for a more bohemian-type skirt with a peasant blouse, under-bust corset, and her cleaned riding boots.

Meeting Zara as she entered the lobby, the two went into the restaurant and were given one of the smaller, more private booths.

“Jesus, Finn, you look like shit.”

“Thanks a lot, Zara, good to see you, too,” Finn laughed.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Your outfit is fabulous, your hair and makeup perfection, but I’m sitting close enough to see the dark circles under your eyes, and it looks like you’ve been crying.”

“Sometimes, Zara, I think you should have been a photojournalist. You have the eye for it.”

“And get out in all that dirt and grime? No, thanks, I’ll do my reporting from the hotel or dining room behind my trusty laptop.”

Finn smiled. She knew that was a handy ruse Zara liked to employ. She had been with her on more than one occasion where not only did they get filthy, they were shot at, jeered at, and threatened.

“My brother got himself in a little over his head. I had to hire the Wild Mustang Security Firm?—”

“You mean those cowboys out of Arizona? Good Lord, that would indicate it was more than a little over his head.”

Finn shrugged. “Originally, I tried to just hire a guide, but one thing led to another, and I was glad to have them. Reid ran afoul of Fariq Abdal.”

“You don’t say. Was he hurt? Were you?”

“Scared more than anything. I truly believe if it hadn’t been for Wild Mustang, Christian and I wouldn’t be breathing anymore.”

“But you’re both all right?”

“More or less,” Finn said with a smile. “In any event, it seems there’s something brewing in Fariq’s organization that may lead to something bigger, involving a splinter group from the RAF.”

“That would go along with a few things I’ve been picking up from my contacts. Fact is, I was planning to call you to see your availability. If what I’ve heard and what you think is true, this could be a huge story.”

“That’s what I’m thinking.”

“But it’s not excitement for a story I see in your face. What happened, Finn?”

“It’s funny, but I was held hostage very briefly by a man named Gerold Springer.”

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