Cash Remington and the Missing Heiress (Sexy Dreadfuls Book 1) by Celia Aaron

 
    CHAPTER ONE
     
     
     
     
    I JUMP. T HE WIND whistles past my ears, and a cold blast to the face gets my blood pumping. I howl into the night, loving the feel of a free-fall. My plane continues silently above me, heading back to a friendlier country.
    Is there anything better than a sky dive at night over enemy territory with no clear landing zone? Of course not.
    The palace lights glow to my left, illuminating the white arabesque domes typical of the country’s grander architecture. The streets directly below me are all but dark, the peasants given candles instead of electricity.
    Somewhere close to the palace is a poppy field whose flowers are the gem of the opium-producing world. I aim for where I know it is, more than happy to stomp the shit out of a few crops as a special fuck-you to the warlord who controls the area.
    By the faint light of the rising moon, I sense the ground approaching. A few more moments and my altitude is low enough for me to pull the cord. I fall a little farther, making sure the bloom of my chute won’t be seen from the palace. Gripping the cord, I yank. My fall is impeded with a swift jerk.
    Floating down, I get a glimpse of the shanty town a few hundred yards away. I brace and hit the ground, crunching a few rows of flowers under my polished black oxfords. My knees take the impact, and I stroll through the field.
    I depress the button at my chest, and the chute comes off easily. It remains where it lands, yet another fuck-you. Someone will find it in the morning, but by then I’ll be long gone, in friendly airspace, with the missing heiress on my cock.
    I smile and straighten my black bowtie. The poppies crunch under my feet as I stride toward the palace. The glowing lights are welcoming, promising me a good time and a successful mission.
    The building’s layout is already ingrained in my mind. Not that I have to sneak in. An invitation rests in my pocket for one of the most exciting events in this part of the world. A slave auction, replete with American women from good stock who will sell for a high price.
    But I didn’t come to buy. I came to reclaim one girl in particular—Collette Stanford, heiress to a tech fortune many times greater than most countries’ GDP. She’d gone missing from her college dorm two days prior after meeting a mystery man on the Internet.
    Her photo intrigued me—mousy brown hair, intelligent blue eyes, and an innocence I could almost taste. When the assignment came in, I jumped on it. She was mine. I solved her disappearance in record time and demanded I be the agent to collect the spoils—her. Seeing as I was the best spy the agency had on hand, it was a no-brainer.
    A cool wind sighs through the air, bringing me the scent of blooms and earth as I reach the end of the poppies. The field recedes behind me, and my feet hit cobblestones. I knock the dirt from my shoes and dart down a few side streets. No one is out at this hour except bad men like me. I smile at the thought and stroll through the gate of the outer palace wall, the white stone looming above me on either side.
    I smooth my black hair down and wait between two parked luxury cars. The turnout looks to be even larger than I’d planned. My trigger finger itches as I see the fuckers lined up at the palace entrance for a taste of virgin pussy from foreign lands. But I don’t make a move. Not yet.
    When another car rolls down the drive, I step out and approach. It’s a black McLaren, fast and perfect. I give a little bow, and the owner rolls down the window.
    “Valet?” I ask.
    He steps out and hands me his keys. He eyes my tux and cocks his head, uncertain. To assuage him, I whip a ticket from my pocket and flash him a dumb smile. He relaxes and takes the square of paper. After one more long look, he turns toward the palace.
    “Thank you so much,” I say under my breath.
    I park the McLaren at the front gate, stash a gun inside, and pocket the keys. The row of sports cars has several other