Ronan pulled up the collar on his Ralph Lauren wool trench coat as the launch bobbed over the waters towards the Hera, Helena’s yacht. Kristina had seen him to the dock, disappointed that he was leaving the island for the next few days, but the determined expression on her face as the launch pulled away was a strong indicator that she was still very much interested in him. Had he been ten years younger, he would have stayed at Wyndemere.
He knew better now. Not that he hadn’t grown fond of her wry smile or the way her eyes narrowed when things weren’t going exactly as she intended. She was very much a Cassadine, in the way she carried herself or spoke with intelligence and insight. He’d begun genuinely enjoying her company, even under the watchful gaze of the Prince’s security.
But there were more pressing issues at stake, and appreciating the way her whole face lit up when she allowed a full smile to blossom on her visage was not one of them, no matter how much he’d grown to relish them. The operator geared down the engine as the launch approached the docking area of the mammoth yacht, sleek and silent in the dark waters. Two hulking figures flanked the lower level of the stern and as the launch ground to a halt near the landing, one opened the small door to allow Ronan onto the landing. Ronan turned gave a nod of thanks to the operator before carefully climbing through the door where he was summarily searched by one guard while the other observed closely, the high powered weapon at the ready. Neither these two men, nor the dozen others positioned strategically throughout the exterior and interior of the Hera, were employed by Helena, but rather part of the Prince’s security team. She was here as his guest and as was custom, he extended her one of his best security teams to protect her from any enemies.
Ronan made his way to the interior, the few lights that marked the dark stained oak of the walls and floor, leading to the main cabin, where he knew she was waiting. He knocked gently on the door before opening and was met with a Russian aria, from an opera that he knew was her favorite. Dark, thick curtains hung from every wall, the deep plum drapery complimenting the wood walls. The large cabin had the usual, a king sized bed at the far end, armoires that carried all of Helena’s necessities for the trip. Plush chairs that sat in one corner near her fireplace and another set close to the vanity table on the opposite wall. The speakers were nestled around the room, and the lights were set low, a few lit candles flickering; illuminating the area in a gothic glow.
Ronan shrugged from his jacket and went over to the small wet bar, pouring himself a drink as he heard the door to the ensuite bathroom slide open. He took a small sip before turning to greet Helena.
“Lady Cassadine,” he said with a smile as his eyes roved over her slim frame, now donned in a deep red silk chemise with a matching robe. She gave him a look as she slowly removed one jewel and then another from her long, graceful fingers. “Ahh, my devoted spy, come to regale me with the news of the evening, yes?”
Ronan undid the top two buttons on his white long sleeved shirt. “It was quite the event,” he agreed smoothly as he turned to make her a drink. “I’ve never seen a more demure and controlled reaction to an earthquake.”
Helena released a gentle laugh at the news. She could just picture each face as it registered the news of Archer’s new position. In one calculated move, he had positioned himself just where he wanted to be. Where both of them wanted him to be. “To think I missed such a momentous occasion. You must tell me everything,” she declared as he offered her the amber liquid in the crystal glass.
Ronan placed his finished glass on the vanity and allowed his darkened orbs to settle on her ice blue eyes. “Right now?” he asked, a hint of a challenge in the question. One hand lifted and silently eased the gown off her left shoulder. Helena’s brows quirked at the gesture. “Despite the masks, it was easy to read the reactions. Stefan was horrified. Faith was crushed and Andresj was shell shocked.” His voice was like liquid as the words washed over Helena. Her lips parted in a satisfied smirk and Ronan moved to the other shoulder, placing a gentle kiss against the ivory skin as he pushed the fabric from it. The robe whisked to the ground and Helena brought up his chin, a knowing smile playing about her lips. “Do go on,” she murmured with approval as he placed a feathery kiss to the hollow of her throat, his hands running the length of the chemise, feeling the curves of what lay beneath the shimmery fabric.
“There was a deathly silence in the room. Most looked bewildered.”
Helena tilted her neck to allow Ronan’s moving lips further access. She daintily sipped her drink as her free hand gently raked down the front of his chest, enjoying the way he reacted to her touch. “Sheep will whenever they are uncertain. What of the Prince?”
Ronan stepped closer, snaking a hand around her waist, pulling her to him. “Disturbed,” he decided. “He was unsettled and greatly disturbed.”
Helena finished her drink and cupped Ronan’s face in her hands, her grip just shy of painful. “And my son? Was his arrow true?” She studied him carefully, a wicked glint glimmering in her countenance. Ronan’s gaze did not waver.
“It was perfect.”
Helena’s face broke in a grin of pride, before her mouth descended on his in a fierce embrace before pulling from his arms and stepping back, eyeing him greedily. Without ceremony, she pulled the spaghetti straps of her chemise and allowed the material to slip to the floor without a sound. She stood nude before him, allowing him to simply look at her, a triumphant glee radiating from her. She reached out, taking his throbbing erection as it strained against his pants and stroked him, letting out a cruel laugh as he gasped. “You’ve done well Ronan,” she purred before swatting his hand away as he reached for her. She moved onto the bed, sliding back against the pillows that held her up as she reclined leisurely.
“Now come to me,” she ordered, watching as he shed one piece of clothing after another, before his well built form crawled across the bed towards hers, their mouths meeting in another fiery kiss as he molded his body to hers. Her porcelain skin was soft and taut and her age was not reflected in any inch of her sinewy physique she obviously devoted a great deal of time to maintaining. Her thighs parted and both hissed with pleasure when he entered her, feeling her limbs coil tightly around his.
Helena reached for a small remote control and with a few presses, the lights winked out, leaving only the lonely few candles to keep the room from plunging into complete darkness. The music increased ever so slightly in volume. “I have a new job for you now,” she whispered, her voice teeming with control as her entire body stilled, despite its screams for her to do the opposite.
Ronan let out a guttural moan of need as his manhood pulsed within her molten walls, craving movement. He gritted his teeth before finding his voice. “What does my Lady wish?”
“We are nearly half a mile from the landing, and another quarter mile to Wyndemere, a fortress made of rock and steel,” she noted airily as she enjoyed the way Ronan’s face twitched with concentrated effort. She clenched her inner muscles and drank in the way his entire body shuddered at her teasing. She reached up, pulling his face to hers, her fragrance intoxicating his senses.
“I wish for them to hear my cries,” she said simply. Ronan blinked in surprise for a moment, but then understanding followed.
“For how long, Lady Cassadine?”
Helena gave him an admonishing look. “For as long as needed, and I promise you, that will be much of the night. Do you understand?” she asked crisply.
Ronan responded with a deep, languorous thrust within her walls, the first of what was sure to be many. Helena let out a pleasure filled sigh as she felt the beginnings of a punishing pace from her young lover.
“Yes Lady Cassadine. I do.”
*~*
Hours later, Ronan donned a simple pair of black silk pajama bottoms and with a goblet of red wine, silently slipped his way out onto the main deck. Despite the chill, he sipped the ruby colored liquid with ease and gazed into the black night, only a few lights from Wyndemere visible in the distance. A guard strolled by and Ronan offered a lazy smile and the half-full goblet. “Care for a drink?”
The man glared at him and said nothing.
“No? To the sea instead,” Ronan said breezily as he wrist flicked, sending the liquid into the black waters below. The guard turned away and continued on his route. Ronan gave a shake and moved back to the interior cabins and to Helena’s bed. She stirred as he slid in beside her, feeling her well manicured nails move across the planes of his physique, stilling at the pajamas.
“Who said you could put these on?” she asked, slowly coming from her slumber. Her fingers slipped under the waistband and she smiled as she found what she was looking for. Ronan closed his eyes as she began to manipulate him once more. She rose and swung a leg over him, settling down on him as he gripped her hips.
“You haven’t been very successful tonight. I don’t believe they’ve heard me yet,” she scolded as she began to rock atop him. Ronan offered a faint smile as he began to move in unison with her. “My apologies Lady Cassadine, I will do better this time.”
As they began to move faster, Ronan’s smile deepened, a secret smile of sorts. The pea-sized device he’d tossed was now moving through the cold waters just off the bow, with the information he had extracted off her encrypted laptop. He’d finally had the opportunity to pull the laptop from the safe he’d spent weeks looking for. Every 30 seconds, it emitted a low pulse for the tracker that would eventually pick it up as the current pushed it further out of the harbor and into the vast ocean beyond. With any luck, it would be retrieved by dusk the next evening and with it, the next phase of the operation would begin.
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