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  Rendezvous

  KD Robichaux

  Contents

  RENDEZVOUS

  Also by KD Robichaux

  1. CHAPTER 1

  2. CHAPTER 2

  3. CHAPTER 3

  4. CHAPTER 4

  5. CHAPTER 5

  6. CHAPTER 6

  EPILOGUE

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  RENDEZVOUS

  Also by KD Robichaux

  THE BLOGGER DIARIES TRILOGY

  Wished for You

  Wish He Was You

  Wish Come True

  No Trespassing

  CONFESSION DUET

  Before the Lie

  Truth Revealed

  CONFESSION DUET SPINOFF STANDALONES

  (Can be read without the duet)

  Seven: A Club Alias Novel

  Coming Soon

  Doc: A Club Alias Novel

  Knight: A Club Alias Novel

  CHAPTER 1

  “Brian Glover,” Clarice singsongs as she answers after the second ring. “As I live and breathe, handsome.”

  “Hello, lover.” I hear her sultry chuckle. She loves it when I call her that instead of her name. Understandable, seeing how most people greet her with a creepy lilt to their voice, mimicking a certain infamous fictional cannibalistic doctor. “What would you say if I told you I have a job in New York starting on Tuesday?”

  Clarice hums. “I’d say I have to look at my schedule, like I always tell you, and then we’d play our little game of cat and mouse, where I play hard to get, all while I’m already packing my bag to come see you.”

  I can hear the smile in her voice, and in my mind I can see it as clearly as if she were sitting right beside me in the passenger seat of my SUV. “Atta girl. I’ll be staying in Manhattan. Anything you need to shoot up there while I’m working? It’ll be mostly the same as always, me disappearing overnight, maybe a few hours during the day.”

  “It’s New York, Bri. A photographer’s playpen. I’m sure I’ll find something to take pictures of while you’re off saving the world one security detail at a time,” she purrs, and the admiration in her tone shoots straight from my ear to my cock. “Plus, my friend Lyra, who is also a photographer, lives up there and I haven’t seen her in a while. I can chill with her if the Big Apple gets too boring.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll text you the address of where we’re staying. And Clarice?”

  Her voice turns quiet, matching mine. “Yeah, Bri?”

  “I’ve missed you,” I confess.

  She giggles, an attempt to make light of the depth of my words. “Well, I’ve missed you too, big guy. I can’t wait to see you!” And with that, the line goes dead. The same way it always does when I try to tell Clarice the way I feel.

  I set my phone in my cup holder then swipe my hand down my beard. “That woman,” I murmur to myself.

  For a couple of years now, anytime I go on an out-of-state mission, I always call Clarice and ask if she’d like to meet me there. We’re not in a relationship, obviously. She likes to call us “besties with bennies,” while I call her my “secret lover” just to hear the sweet sound of her laughter. And for now, I’ll take what I can get from the raven-haired beauty. With my job, I don’t really have time to put in the effort for a committed relationship anyway. But if I did, it would most certainly be with her.

  We met years ago, while I was deployed in Afghanistan with the Army. She was an American photographer capturing breathtaking images of the war with her camera for a magazine. When I discharged and started working for my security company, we kept in touch. My first mission happened to be near where she worked, so we hooked up. She even took me to a local BDSM club when my mission was complete, and ever since, we’ve made a tradition out of it. She meets me where a job takes me, and when it’s over, I get “rewarded for a job well done” by her treating me to her submission. New York will be a new one for us, and I can only imagine what a BDSM club in the world-famous city will be like. Surely, we can find one as high-end as the one I own with my three business partners. Clarice deserves nothing less.

  I got the call about an hour ago. Doc, the head of our mercenary team—which is disguised as our security company—phoned to let me know there was a job up north. Since I’m the only one on my team who does out-of-state missions anymore, ever since they each found their other half, it’s up to me to get the job done. I don’t mind. I actually prefer getting out of our small military town and putting my skills to use. Regular security details get rather boring when you’re used to being shot at in a war zone.

  Apparently, I will be doing a job for a Mrs. Witt, who works for Demetri Security. For now, that’s all I know until I can get to New York and have a sit-down meeting. I’m used to hush-hush situations, so the request isn’t surprising.

  I head home from the club, ready to pack and go to bed. Yet I don’t know how much sleep I’ll be able to get knowing I’ll soon be sharing a bed with the only woman who’s ever made me feel alive when I’m so used to being surrounded by death.

  CHAPTER 2

  “Before we begin, Mr. Glover, I need you to sign these nondisclosure and confidentiality agreements,” Mrs. Witt, a short woman with a blunt, chin-length haircut, tells me, sliding the contracts across the desk, where I sit inside her office in New York. I scrawl my name across the lines, dating them before setting the pen down and returning them to her side of the lacquered surface. “Very good. Welcome to Infidelity. On the outside, we are a Fortune 500 company that employs hundreds of people, from writers and photographers to janitorial personnel,” she states, sounding like she’s given this spiel many times before.

  “But on the inside?” I prompt, resting my ankle on the opposite knee as I sit back in the leather chair.

  “We create companionship opportunities. I say ‘we,’ but really, I don’t work for Infidelity, but rather its main investor, Demetri Enterprises. It is my job, as head of security, to make sure all of my employer’s assets remain that way, an asset, rather than a liability.”

  “You’re the head of security?” I ask, unable to hide the surprise from my tone. The woman is a tiny little thing and looks to be almost two decades older than me.

  Her face turns blank. “Yes. I am the brains, not the brawn. Obviously, they hired me to do the thinking, since men are only good for doing neck-down work.” She smirks.

  “Touché,” I mumble, taking the jab since I had let the offensive outburst slip.

  She nods once, her eyes sparkling with humor. “I have a background in the CIA and give even the best hackers in the world a run for their money. There’s only one person I know of who can find information faster than me, a literal genius who got his masters at MIT when he was just a teenager. I understand Seth Owens works with you at your security company.” She smiles, a look people usually get when talking about the “class clown” of our business.

  “That he does,” I confirm, and she nods again.

  “His talent is astounding. He’s actually the reason you’re here. When I called him for assistance, he said you would be the man for the job.”

  “And what is the job exactly?” I question, wanting to move this along so I can get starte
d… and get to the hotel suite before Clarice arrives.

  “In order to tell you that, I need to explain what Infidelity really is. As I was saying, we create opportunities for companionship. It is sort of like an escort service, but we do not solicit sex. An Infidelity employee sets up a profile, and then a client can hire them by agreeing to a one-year contract. Well, not really a contract, but for lack of a better word. The employee’s profile is very detailed. They set their limits, what they are willing and unwilling to do, what they themselves are looking for in a companion, what they do in their life, all to make the most perfect match.” She reaches into a drawer and pulls out a file, flipping it open. Inside is a picture of a blonde woman with a pleasant smile on her face, along with a printed version of what looks like an online dating site profile.

  “Missing, dead, or both?” I ask, my face turning grim.

  “Just missing. She was alive as of this morning. Quincy Herald has been the companion of billionaire hotelier Jean LaRue for the past year. At the one-year mark, the employee and the client are able to renew their companionship if they mutually agree. Quincy decided not to re-up for another year, because she had earned enough money to start her own business—the reason she signed on with Infidelity in the first place. Mr. LaRue wasn’t happy with her decision and took it upon himself to make her stay,” she explains, and I shift in my seat, sitting up to lean over the file.

  “And how do you know he’s taken her against her will? Maybe she wanted to stay with him, and they’re off just having a romantic getaway or some shit,” I prompt.

  “Because the employee is always contacted separately from the client when it comes time to renew the agreement. I personally interviewed Quincy, and she was very adamant that she was not going to sign up for another year, because she was excited to finally start her bakery. They were finishing up the final three days of the one-year agreement. She had an appointment at a location to sign all the closing contracts on her storefront, but she never showed. When she wouldn’t answer her phone, her sister got scared. She’s also an Infidelity employee, so she knew the truth of what was going on and called us to look into it.”

  “So there is no doubt this rich douche has taken her against her will. How do you know she was alive this morning?” I question.

  “We got a call on the Infidelity emergency line. It was too quick to trace, but she was able to get out that she was in one of his hotels and had not been taken out of the country. We have reason to believe she is actually still in the state.” She taps out a few keystrokes on her laptop and then spins it around for me to see. “There has been no movement of Mr. LaRue’s private jet, no activity to indicate travel by other airlines. The only thing we’ve caught is footage of him forcibly leading her out to his garage at his Staten Island hotel and them getting into his car before leaving. We had our team watching the security cameras for his other hotels in the state so we could see if they arrived at one and we could go get her, but unfortunately, twenty minutes after they left the island, all security footage went black.”

  “He turned off all the cams in all his hotels,” I state.

  “Yes.”

  “Well fuck.”

  “Yep.”

  “All right. I’ll get Seth on top of this. There’s nothing really I can do until we find out where she is. But if y’all find her, no one can get her out of there more safely than I can. I’m your best shot at her getting out of this alive,” I state. I'm not cocky; it’s the truth. I’m the person on the team they always call for situations like this. Even though I tower over my three coworkers, I’m the stealthiest but also the most levelheaded. I’m able to control my emotions when put under pressure. I’ve perfected the art of keeping myself somewhat disconnected. I know I come across as a heartless asshole most of the time, but it makes me damn good at my job.

  “All right. Thank you, Mr. Glover,” Mrs. Witt replies.

  “Just Glover is fine, ma’am.”

  She nods, shaking my hand as we stand. “You can take the file with you, and I have all of your contact information from Seth. So if we get any news, I’ll call you ASAP.”

  CHAPTER 3

  “Bri, my man! You make it to New York okay?” Seth hollers into the phone, trying to be heard over the thumping music of our club. A few seconds later, the bass dulls to a low throb in the background, and I imagine he’s gone upstairs to the offices, closing the door behind him.

  “Yeah. Got to the hotel about an hour ago and ate some dinner. Did Mrs. Witt contact you?” I ask.

  “Yes. Not much to go off, but I’ve got all systems running, watching all his credit card activity. I’ve tapped into a few of his vehicles’ GPS systems, but haven’t been able to locate the one he’s apparently using. Fucker has over a dozen. Who the fuck needs that many cars?” he gripes.

  I roll my eyes. “Says the dude who doesn’t own one.”

  “Hey, I have my bike. And we have Twyla’s car too. We don’t need more than that. Especially since I switched out my single seat for a double on the motorcycle. You can’t beat the feel of a woman’s legs wrapped around yours while you’re riding, and when you shift and her titties press against your back—” I hear a smack and Seth call out “Ouch, woman! Today was chest day at the gym. Watch the pecs.”

  “Stop talking about my boobs with Glover,” I hear Twyla hiss in the background.

  Seth sighs into the phone. “Anyway, yeah. Bike beats a car any day of the week. But this bag of dicktips has fourteen. It’ll take me a few more hours to find all the VIN numbers and tap into the rest of the systems. According to Mrs. Witt, the car in the surveillance footage looked like a newer model sedan, so I’ll check those out first. But he could’ve switched cars after the cameras went black.”

  “Okay, just call me as soon as you get a lead. I’m kind of wandering around aimlessly until y’all tell me where to go,” I say, looking up as there’s a tap on the hotel room door.

  “Will do, bud,” Seth replies, and we hang up.

  I get up off the edge of the bed and force myself to walk to the door calmly, when everything inside me is telling me to run to the woman I know is behind it. When I pull it open, my heart thunders behind my ribcage when I see her beautiful smile spread across her face. “Hello, lover,” I greet quietly, and brace myself when she makes her move.

  She drops her bags there in the doorway and launches herself into my arms, uncaring she’s in a skirt, knocking me back a single step as I wrap my arm around her hips. Even though she’s curvy in all the right places, with my wingspan, I’m able to circle her entire body with one arm while I keep the door open with the other. With her bare legs wrapped around my hips, she grasps behind my neck and leans back to look into my eyes. “Hey, big guy. How’s the air up here?” she teases, like she always does before sliding down my six-foot, eight-inch frame.

  With the top of her head now at my chest level, she has to tilt way back in order to look up at me, so I take the opportunity to lace my fingers through the back of her hair, my large hand cupping her skull. She’s so tiny. I could crush her easily just by making a fist, yet she brings out a gentleness in me that has me handling her like the precious piece of art she is. “Much better now that you’re here,” I murmur, before lowering my face to hers. She goes up on her tiptoes as I let go of the door and wrap my arm around the small of her back. My body surrounds hers as our lips connect.

  And just like always, it’s like coming home after a yearlong deployment. How such a little creature could hold a big man like me in the palm of her hand, I’ll never know, but that’s the way she makes me feel. Her kiss is fiery, even as it sends a soothing coolness down my spine, like walking into air conditioning after riding in a blistering Humvee all day. She’s like a cold glass of water after sweating in the desert for weeks, like the first time I kissed her in Afghanistan. She quenches a thirst inside me that no amount of submissives at my club could ever slake. It’s why I don’t bother fucking anyone there, even being one of the head Doms. W
hy would I when I’d only be picturing Clarice in their place? And everything about that just feels wrong.

  With a sweet sigh of satisfaction, she gently breaks the kiss, pulling back and looking behind her at her bags while I try to calm the thundering of my heart. “I guess we better get my bags in so we can close the door all the way. Don’t want to give anyone a show,” she says on a giggle.

  “Why not? We’ve done it before,” I remind her, thinking back to the scenes we’ve done at various BDSM clubs around the country.

  “Uh-uh, big guy. You haven’t completed your mission. No reward for you… yet.” She winks, spinning in my arms to bend over and grab the straps of her bags, her ass pressing to my front, and I nearly go cross-eyed.

  I reach around her and take the bags from her hands, carrying them into the suite. Placing them on the luggage rack inside the closet, I then turn around to see her plop down on the end of the bed, her breasts bouncing at the top of her low-cut white T-shirt. She’ll be the death of me.

  “Nice place they put you up at this time. Come over here and tell mama about your mission,” she says, reaching her arms out to me and opening and closing her hands.

  I narrow my eyes at her. “I signed a nondisclosure.” I shrug teasingly. “I can’t willingly tell you a thing.” I saunter toward her, and she takes my hand with one of her outstretched ones and yanks. She wouldn’t really make me even budge, but I allow myself to fall onto the mattress on my back and smirk as she climbs on top of me.

  “I can torture it out of you,” she whispers, leaning forward until her chest is pressed to mine. My eyes can’t decide which they’d rather focus on, the red pout of her perfect lips or her breasts now spilling from her neckline. My cock swells almost painfully inside my jeans. “Mmm, feels like someone likes that idea.” She grinds her hips, pressing her smoldering core down on top of my erection.