Kathleen Dante
Erotic Romance with a Touch of Magic

John Atlantis prowled the narrow confines of the clairfield spell, its precise metal curlicues inlaid into the floor gleaming in readiness as he awaited Dillon’s summons. What could be so important that his former partner needed the security of a thaumaturgic conference?

Relax. You’ll find out soon enough.

Expelling his tension in an explosive sigh, he lowered himself onto the lone chair, stretching out his long legs as best he could. The long hours necessary to establish his business had left him little time to find a bed partner. Small wonder his temper was short.

When the mental summons finally came, he completed the spell circuit with a curt wave of his hand.

Dillon appeared in the clear space in front of him, standing beside an executive chair, looking solid enough to touch. “Lantis,” he said with a nod of greeting, addressing him by his diminutive byname. “You’re looking good.” The younger man tapped an index finger on his chair, a rare sign of hesitancy.

Lantis returned the salute briefly. “Consultancy agrees with me,” he replied, willing his former partner to get to the point. He still had that site inspection in New Mexico to plan for. Testing his theories on a nuclear facility was always iffy.

Dillon turned away, the light wherever he was casting a strange look of reserve over his black eyes. One hand still resting on the chair back, he eyed Lantis over his shoulder. “KidTek.” He quirked a dark brow inquiringly.

“The toy maker?” Lantis asked, startled. Dillon was still immersed in the secretive black ops world Lantis left behind a couple of years ago. Where did kidTek fit in, in all that?

Dillon flashed him a strained smile. “Not just.” He finally took his seat, adding with an air of decision, “They do some work for us. Our projects piggyback on their toys R and D.” His smile faded. “Unfortunately, something seems to’ve slipped through their security.”

Lantis sat forward, an ominous tightening in his gut.

“Last month, kidTek released a— A doll.”

“A doll?” Lantis echoed in surprise, straightening in his seat. What did a doll have to do with black ops?

“Not related to our projects. But there’s a proprietary process involved,” Dillon explained, his voice taking on the crisp tones of a formal report. “Two weeks later, a Chinese company had an identical product on the market.” Squaring his shoulders, he narrowed his eyes at Lantis. “There’s no way it could have been reverse engineered and in production that quickly. Not without inside information.”

Lantis frowned. He could see the danger it posed to black ops, but his friend seemed to have a personal stake in the matter; Dillon was holding something back. “So there’s nothing directly threatening the black ops projects, per se. How are you involved? Last I heard, you’re still in the field.”

“I still am. Kiera Stevens, the CEO and owner of kidTek, is a close friend.”

Lantis twitched a finger, demanding clarification.

“No, kidTek was doing work even when her father ran things. And Kiera’s practically my sister; I’ve known her since we were toddlers.” Dillon leaned toward Lantis, resting white-knuckled fists on his thighs. “She came to me for help. To plug the leak before it can threaten our projects.”

“So you want me to identify the holes in security?” Lantis narrowed his eyes at the urgent younger man.

Dillon met his gaze cautiously. “I want you to personally plug the holes, nail the spy, and keep our projects under wraps, right and tight.” He raised a clenched fist in emphasis.

“Why me specifically? I’m focused more on the theoretical side of things these days, you know.”

“You’re still the best in security magic.” The younger man stared at him steadily. “You have the contacts. And if there’s a foreign intelligence component to Kiera’s problem, you can handle it. You know the players.”

Lantis raised a brow skeptically. His former partner knew all the right buttons to push.

“Even better, you’ve been out for some time, so your involvement won’t raise any flags.” By Dillon’s uncertain frown, he was wondering if he needed to add more to make his case.

Lantis got to his feet to prowl and flex suddenly tight muscles. “And the rest of it?”

“KidTek will be closed next week for the Memorial Day holidays. We figured it’d be the best time for you to go in and upgrade security.” Fewer people and less distraction on-site, the younger man meant. Lower profile, too.

“Sending me in blind?” Lantis observed blandly, deciding to give in gracefully since his friend rarely asked for favors.

“Hardly,” Dillon snorted. He reached to one side, then withdrew a bulky folder from thin air, resting it on one thigh. “I’ve got everything here. Site magic. Security details. Background checks. Facility blueprints. Assorted schedules.” He flicked tabs in the folder as he enumerated its contents.

“And Ms. Stevens?” Lantis asked, certain Dillon’s dossier was as complete as black ops resources could make it—as usual.

“She’ll call you tomorrow morning to set up an appointment.” To lay the groundwork for an innocuous first contact. “She’s already agreed to your fee, plus expenses and twenty percent for covert hands-on services.”

Lantis raised a brow. “Pretty sure of yourself.”

Dillon shook his head, the tension on his face easing. “I hoped.”

Lantis put his hands on his hips, his mind racing to juggle his deliverables. “I’ll need that dossier as soon as possible.”

“Done.” Dillon stood and tossed the thick file toward Lantis’ empty chair. He disappeared as the spell circuit opened.

A heavy thump announced the dossier’s arrival, drawing Lantis’ eye to his now-occupied seat. Damn, this was going to play hell with his schedule.

* * *

Kiera smoothed the jacket of her cream power suit over her breasts. In the rearview mirror, the unruly waves of her dark red hair remained confined in her usual chignon. Her makeup was minimal—and flawless. Every inch a strong, capable executive. Taking a deep, calming breath, she reached for her briefcase and stepped out of her car.

She didn’t know why she was so nervous. Dillon had said Mr. Atlantis was the perfect man to handle her situation. So what if his baritone seemed to strike an inner chord that continued to vibrate deep inside her? Considering that he was retired from Dillon’s line of work, he had to be middle-aged and she wasn’t in the market for a father figure.

That line of thinking carried her past building security all the way through the lobby. Riding the elevator to the sixth floor, she sternly resolved to keep her quivering inner chords to herself and focus on unmasking her industrial spy.

Still, she couldn’t prevent her free hand from gliding along one hip to smooth nonexistent creases when she stopped before a large, steel door that bore the dark blue logo of Depth Security. And when that same sexy baritone sounded from an inconspicuous grille beside it, she couldn’t suppress a traitorous inner clenching. “Kiera Stevens. I have an appointment,” she answered, wresting her mind back to business.

“One moment.” Soft, deep, commanding.

She found she’d closed her eyes, savoring that voice. Oh, God!Pull yourself together, Kiera.

With a muffled sigh, the steel door slid to one side, leaving her to stare at a broad chest clad in a pale blue, long-sleeved shirt. Startled, she tilted her head back to look up into piercing blue eyes, partly obscured by a thin fringe of overly long, black hair and framed by a handsome, solemn face.

“Ms. Stevens?”

Kiera caught her breath. His deep voice shook her to her very core, resonated through her bones. She pressed her thighs together as she creamed helplessly. Her breasts ached suddenly, her nipples tight and throbbing.

Oh. My. God. No middle-aged man addressed her; he looked barely a few years older than Dillon. “Yes,” she managed to answer.

He ushered her inside and sealed the door.

“I’m John Atlantis,” he said, taking her hand. Giving her a long, intent look, he added softly, “You may call me Lantis.”

“Then I’m Kiera,” she returned. His voice and the touch of his hand did little for her façade of composure.

“This way. Please,” Lantis instructed, guiding her with a hand under her elbow. He led her through a reception area, and down a short corridor to what apparently was his office.

At five-ten, Kiera was used to looking most men in the eye or looking down at their heads. Sneaking a glance at Lantis, she suspected she was just the right height to rest her cheek on that fabulous chest. Walking so closely beside him made her feel petite; somehow it felt just right.

Stepping through the doorway, a large executive’s desk to one side of the office snagged Kiera’s attention and sparked her suddenly unruly imagination. Long, wide, and covered with piles of paper, it evoked erotic images of far more pleasurable ways—unprofessional ways—they could put it to use.

Heat sizzled through her body. Needing distraction and distance between herself and that all-too-intriguing piece of furniture, she crossed the room to the windows at the far side. Obviously, all these many months focused on taking up the reins of her father’s company in the wake of his death had fried her brain. Her consequent celibacy certainly couldn’t have helped.

Looking out, she noted his view of the highway and the lack of noise. Surprised, she checked the clear panes. Despite their thickness, they seemed unremarkable compared to the steel door at the entry. “Don’t you run the risk of eavesdropping?”

“The panes are coated with nanoceramic that resonates to a frequency dependent on UV light exposure. Unless you’re noisy, all a microphone will pick up is white noise.”

Noisy? Kiera felt a guilty flush heat her cheeks, conscious of the dampness between her thighs. Normally she wasn’t a moaner, but this didn’t feel like normal circumstances. “I’m surprised you don’t use magic.”

“That’s a different line of defense. Shall we begin?”

Taking a deep breath to shore up her composure, she turned to him. “Of course.”

Lantis seated her in a visitor’s chair, then he took his place behind the desk, looking very much in command.

Kiera crossed her legs to press her thighs together, trying to stem the dampness, then nearly flinched. The whisper of her stockings rubbing together sounded unnaturally loud to her heightened senses. Kiera, get hold of yourself!

He took some papers from a folder before him and passed them to her. “Dillon said you’ve agreed to these terms.”

She bent her head to read the completed contract, then nodded. “Yes, this is entirely acceptable.” She pulled out a pen to sign it.

Lantis forestalled her, setting long fingers on the document. “What are the boundaries of the covert services?”

“No one else in the company should know what you’re doing. I don’t know who or how many people are involved in this and I want to make sure no one gets away.” Kiera was absolutely determined on that score.

“Completely covert.” Lantis nodded understanding. “How will I access security recordings?”

Kiera bit her lip in thought. “Through my office. Even the cameras can be accessed directly from there.”

“Ah. We’ll be working closely, then.”

Kiera thought she saw what looked like anticipation in Lantis’ eyes, before she bent down to finally sign the contracts.

The photos included in Dillon’s dossier hadn’t done Kiera Stevens justice. Though, to be fair, that static medium couldn’t have shown her graceful, I’m-in-charge walk.

Lantis tried to consider her objectively while she dealt with the paperwork. She didn’t match his concept of a high-powered executive, much less the president of a company the size of kidTek. She looked too young, for one; she wasn’t even in her thirties despite the elaborate bun. Too female. His mind flashed to the very respectable bust and long, shapely legs that had greeted him at the door. Too attractive. Her large, deep-set, golden eyes were lively with intelligence over a trim, straight nose and a small mouth with lush lips. The musky scent of her desire called to his libido like a siren song. And her husky contralto was tailor-made for the bedroom.

Conversely, the dossier indicated she’d more than held her own since taking over from her father. The determined look in her eyes earlier suggested she’d do whatever was necessary to see things through. It just might work.

Lantis added his signature to the contracts, then passed Kiera her copy. As she accepted it, he couldn’t help noticing she wore a bloodstone ring, popular with women for housing contraceptive spells, on the smallest finger of her left hand.

That done, Lantis turned his attention to Kiera’s problem. “Dillon said you believe security was breached because a doll was copied.”

Kiera smiled and Lantis found himself focusing on her small mouth—a slight overbite gave her upper lip an inviting thrust that tempted him to nibble on it and her full bottom lip brought to mind much more carnal activities. “Action figure.”

“Pardon?”

“It was an action figure.” The tip of Kiera’s tongue darted out, leaving her lips a kissable, glossy red. “It’s based on a TV cartoon character whose magic allows her to instantly change her dress.”

“Magic.” Lantis grimaced. A lot of people labored under the misconception that magic could be performed with the snap of a finger with no prep necessary. He could understand its appeal, but it made for a lot of disillusioned apprentice mages. “What makes you sure this was a case of industrial espionage?”

Kiera smiled, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “To simulate the transformation, the fabric of the action figure’s clothes is specially treated.” She went on to explain how the application of a slight electrical charge allowed the varicloth to change to different colors and patterns.

Lantis winced inwardly, struggling to maintain a neutral expression. This wasn’t connected with a black ops project? Dillon, Dillon, Dillon, he mentally chided his absent friend.

“Anyway, the alternate clothes for this action figure required very specific colors, which were difficult to produce reliably. Initially, the yields for—” Biting her lip, she paused, apparently to edit for need-to-know. “The yields weren’t commercially viable. It wasn’t until we developed a filtration process that utilizes certain proprietary psychochemical reactions that we achieved the necessary output.”

“And there’s no way your competition could’ve developed this independently? Like parallel evolution?”

“Never. Joy Luck Truly has a reputation for maximizing profits on minimal investment. They don’t do R and D. And we’re not the first company they’ve stolen from,” she countered heatedly.

It might be cliché but Lantis noted that Kiera was beautiful when she was angry—golden eyes sparking, cheeks flushed a delicate pink, lips cherry red, breasts heaving—a delicious foretaste to lovemaking. He reined in his thoughts before they got him into trouble.

“. . . copied everything precisely,” Kiera was saying, “down to the circuit design. Their action figures could have rolled off kidTek’s production lines—they’re that similar!” She was incandescent with fury, trembling in her chair with outrage. Gorgeous.

Lantis checked his notes, taking time to get himself in hand, then redirected his line of questioning. “So the critical phases were the filtration process and the treatment for the cloth. Did the same team handle these?”

Kiera took a deep breath, distracting Lantis with thoughts of stripping off her jacket, unbuttoning her lavender blouse to reveal— “N-no,” she said huskily.

No? Lantis blinked.

“They’re two different processes: one was handled by product development, and the other by production R and D,” she stated more definitely.

Oh. Lantis brought his mind back on track and his body under control, thankful that the desk hid his very visible reaction from his client. “Is there anyone else who might’ve had access? Perhaps on the production floor?” he asked gruffly, adjusting his suddenly tight pants in—he hoped—a surreptitious manner.

Kiera thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, the filtration was installed as a black box and the production of the cloth is totally automated,” she informed him confidently.

“That being the case, we’re looking at an individual who managed to circumvent security or, at worst, a conspiracy with at least two members who belonged to those teams.”

She even frowned attractively, Lantis noted, then thrust the stray thought from his mind.

“You’ve obviously done your homework,” Kiera said, glancing at the piles of paper on his desk. “Is there any way this was a straight outside job? Using magic?”

Lantis could see where she was headed with her line of questioning; no one liked to think they’d been betrayed by people they knew even remotely. He disliked having to disappoint her. “Given your security, the theft could’ve been committed by scrying, but that’s highly unlikely and doesn’t mean there’s no one working on the inside.”

“Why? And why doesn’t it eliminate an insider?” Obviously, despite her insistence on a completely covert investigation, Kiera still nurtured the hope that she was wrong.

“It’s too energy-intensive. Just stealing the filtration process that way would require them to monitor the production team for several days. And so far,” Lantis remarked judiciously, “there are no psyprinters capable of storing the data from such a fishing expedition, so it’s not worth the effort.”

“And the only way they’d even be aware of the fishing hole is through an insider,” Kiera noted glumly with a sexy moue of frustration. “Wait. Does this mean the— other projects are also at risk?” Despite his security, she was evidently unwilling to mention black ops aloud.

Lantis shook his head immediately, glad he could reassure her on that count. “Their security is practically hermetic. Which is what makes your commercial set-up rather strange.

“Or—maybe not,” he added thoughtfully. “Most companies don’t protect against scrying because of the low probability of success. Those labs do. It’s almost as if the hole in the defenses of the commercial side was left there deliberately. Possibly as a decoy. Or protective camouflage.”

“Camouflage?” Kiera echoed, wide eyed.

“Unusual security makes outsiders wonder what’s being hidden. In your case, I suspect your father wanted kidTek to look like every other company,” Lantis explained.

“So it’s not really a security risk?”

“There’s always some risk, of eavesdropping or identifying which of your people are working on a particular project, for example. But in this case, it’s quite low.” He still intended to plug it, though, given the circumstances. “Your spy probably just sneaked a camera into the labs.”

“Wouldn’t it have been noticed?” Kiera argued, frowning.

Lantis allowed himself a slight smile, confident of his ground. “You’d be surprised how small commercially available spy equipment get. They’re so easy to conceal, it’s almost magic.” The mouth-watering scent of aroused woman drifted to him, filled his senses momentarily. The urge to bury his face in her lap and wallow in that delicious aroma was nearly overwhelming. He shifted his weight, trying to ease the tightness of his pants.

Kiera nibbled her bottom lip. “So how will you catch him?”

Lantis explained his plan: upgrade the labs’ security spells to detect and disable any cameras brought in, tie them into the surveillance circuit, and extend the surveillance coverage to inside the labs. “After that, it’s just a matter of monitoring and waiting for the spy to strike again.” He didn’t look forward to the latter, except it meant he’d be spending a great deal of time with Kiera. “If they strike again.”

“Why wouldn’t they, after the last time?”

“Caution? Maybe they’ve gotten all they came for.” Lantis shrugged. “But the odds are with you. Most careful thieves are caught because they get too greedy.”

“Can you have something set up by this afternoon?” Kiera pushed, evidently considering him a miracle worker.

Lantis rejected the suggestion with a sharp shake of his head. “I have to inspect the premises first.”

“That’s not enough?” Kiera asked with a graceful wave indicating the papers on his desk.

“Hardly.” Lantis wrestled with a sudden surge of anticipation. “Now, about our cover story. . .

Cover story? Kiera blinked in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“I have to have a reason for dropping by unexpectedly and staying in your office for hours. It can’t be professional, otherwise your assistant would expect to know my business, which leaves us with personal reasons. Since I’m not family, we have to be lovers,” Lantis said oh so reasonably.

Lantis as her lover? Kiera caught her breath, imagining her hands caressing that powerful chest and flat belly, her body cradling him inside her and seeing his blue eyes go blind with pleasure. Stretched out beneath him, totally at his mercy. Heat seared her.

“Most people accept things at face value,” Lantis continued. “If we appear to be more than just good friends, they won’t suspect why we’re spending so much time together. I can drop in whenever I need to without risking the operation.”

Kiera wrenched her thoughts back to their discussion. “There may be a problem there,” she ventured, hesitant to expose her social reclusion.

“You have a lover who’ll object?”

A gratifying assumption.

Kiera shook her head. “I haven’t socialized much since I took over the company. I haven’t had the time or the inclination. Even before, I tried to keep my love life and business separate. I don’t think they’ll buy it, if I suddenly have a— A lover hanging around.”

“Don’t you?” Lantis responded, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to be very convincing.” There was a look in his eyes that promised—very intimate things.

Kiera’s pulse raced madly, her mind caught up in erotic daydreams.

“See?” Lantis said softly. “If you can keep that up, we shouldn’t have any problem convincing your people.”

Kiera startled. “W-what did you say?”

“If you keep looking at me like that, no one will question our cover,” Lantis replied, looking back with something like approval in his eyes.

“Oh, Lord!” Kiera twisted away in her seat, unable to meet his gaze. In her mind’s eye, she saw him forcing her to suck his cock, taking her from behind, scene after scene, making her beg, making her scream, possessing her.

“Kiera?” Lantis’ voice wrapped around her senses, like velvet on intimate flesh, caressing unmentionable places.

Kiera struggled to remember what they were talking about. Memory brought a surge of mortified heat to her cheeks. “I— I don’t think I’ll be able to do that,” she replied desperately.

“That?”

Herself on her hands and knees, helplessly absorbing his pounding thrusts, crying out with raw pleasure and begging for more.

“Pretend that we’re lovers, I mean,” Kiera elaborated hastily, clutching her knees as she tried to ignore the fresh spurt of dampness between her thighs, the aching tightness of her nipples. Her celibacy had obviously impaired her judgment.

“Isn’t there some other way?” she asked raggedly.

“Hmm. And still keep the investigation covert?” Lantis returned in a neutral voice.

Kiera nodded, feeling the weight of his gaze.

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