Red Hot Dragons Steamy 10 Book Collection

by Lisa Daniels

  “You went to Stanford?” he asked, rising to peer at the paper framed beside her desk.

  “I—yes,” the psychologist replied. “Are you interested in pursuing a higher education? I understand you got your GED in prison.”

  He glanced at her out of his peripheral vision, a fuzzy smile painting his lips.

  “I used to think that education was important,” he told her honestly. “But I know so many people who have degrees and have done nothing with them.”

  “Some people believe that getting an education is important just to keep learning,” she offered and he could feel her studying him.

  He shrugged and turned away.

  “There are many ways to learn without spending a fortune on an institution of higher learning.”

  “That is true,” Dr. Margolis agreed. “I guess you learn a thing or two in the school of hard knocks.”

  He swallowed a smile at her vernacular.

  “Yes, that,” he replied. “But I tend to believe that every day you can learn something new, whether from other people or simply by looking around.”

  Dr. Margolis seemed taken aback by his statement and she scrutinized him pensively.

  “How are things in the house? Are you getting used to the cameras and your housemates yet?”

  He shrugged indifferently.

  “They have no real bearing on me,” he said enigmatically and she stared closely at him.

  “You seem different today, Andrew,” she told him softly. “Did something happen? Over and above what you already said?”

  He raised his head to look at her, backing away from her diploma.

  “Am I much different?”

  “Yes.”

  He shrugged and shuffled toward the settee again, sitting back against the cushions.

  “Like I said, I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

  “That will happen when you repeatedly threaten my life,” Dr. Margolis said dryly, but he didn’t sense any anger in her tone.

  He looked sheepishly at her, his mind racing.

  “I have a lot of anger issues, Doctor,” he told her. “I imagine that is why I have been appointed to therapy as a condition of my parole. I don’t want to end up back in prison, especially when I know you’re trying to help me.”

  Their gazes met and again, he was struck by her beauty.

  “I am glad we’re on the same page now, Andrew. I hope you believe that I truly do want to help you, despite the circumstances of us coming together.”

  Unexpectedly, he felt a shiver at her words.

  “So, is there anything you want to talk about today? The last time we met, you stormed out when I mentioned your accomplice.”

  He tensed immediately and chewed the insides of his cheeks.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid!

  Forcing a smile, he shook his head.

  “Honestly, I would prefer to put the events of the robbery behind me. I want to focus on starting a new life, free of crime.

  “That’s understandable,” Dr. Margolis said, but he thought he detected a glimmer of disappointment in her steel-colored eyes.

  I guess she needs to cover all of that if she’s going to sign off on these sessions.

  “But maybe another time we can talk about it,” he concluded and she nodded.

  “We have a lot of time together,” she agreed. “No need to rush things.”

  He gave her a grateful smile, his breathing slowly returning to normal.

  “What is your plan going forward, Andrew? I understand they are giving you a decent payment for your part in the show. What do you intend to do with that?”

  “I haven’t given it much thought.”

  “Your brother owns a construction company, doesn’t he?”

  “Yes,” he replied quickly, his gaze shifting toward the floor.

  God, I am the worst liar in the world.

  “Maybe he would give you a job on his crew?”

  He shrugged again, feeling his pulse racing against his veins.

  How much longer is this going to be? I need to get out of here.

  She cocked her head to the side and stared at him.

  “You’re wearing a different outfit,” Dr. Margolis commented and he stared at her uncomprehendingly.

  “What?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

  “The last two times I saw you, you were wearing the same outfit.”

  Gods, really? That’s disgusting.

  “Ah, yeah. I finally got a chance to go shopping.”

  He was becoming uncomfortable under her steady stare and he willed himself to remain calm.

  “Why don’t you tell me about your childhood, Andrew? You seemed reluctant to talk about it before.”

  He cleared his throat quickly.

  “There is not much to tell. At least nothing you can’t read in my file.”

  “I think we both know that what is written on a piece of paper by a bureaucrat and the reality don’t often sync. Am I right?”

  Again, he was struck by the down-to-earthiness of her.

  She’s intelligent, gorgeous, and yet so grounded, he thought. Pink began to tinge his complexion.

  “I’m an army brat,” he said simply. It was a lie he had learned to tell years ago and it served him well over the years. It explained his endless moves and travel experience and left little in the way of questions.

  Unless, of course, you’re being drilled by a therapist, he thought dryly.

  “That must have put a strain on things in your family,” Dr. Margolis remarked. “Moving around all the time.”

  He didn’t know how to answer her query in a believable way, so he didn’t answer it at all.

  “What was that like for you?” she pressed and he knew he wasn’t getting off so easily.

  He could hear the compassion in her voice and in spite of himself, he found himself digging up memories of his long-ago deceased mother, if only to sate her thirst for his background.

  “My mother turned to the bottle,” he admitted truthfully. “She wasn’t cut out for the life of a…”

  He caught himself from saying what he was really thinking.

  “The wife of a soldier,” he said quickly.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” she murmured. “How did your family handle that?”

  “You may not believe this, but she was better when she was drunk. She was happier, dancing around and out of touch with the darkness of reality. Truthfully, she was much more forgiving and loving when she had a few drinks in her. I think it took the edge off.”

  “Did your siblings feel the same way?”

  “Uh… A-Alex took her drinking hard. He felt like it was his fault that she couldn’t stay sober. Sierra didn’t care—she became more like me: a wild child.”

  There was a brief silence.

  “Mom kept her drinking hidden from our dad for years. We knew better than to tell him, but eventually he discovered it. Secrets like that always have a way of rearing their ugly heads in the end, don’t they?”

  “Indeed, they do,” Dr. Margolis conceded. “How did he react?”

  Well, I’m afraid I can’t tell you the truth on that, Doctor.

  He forced a smile and thought up a plausible scenario.

  “Dad took Sierra, who was fifteen, and brought her along with him wherever he was deployed. If anything, she was less supervised than she had been with Mom. My brother and I got a place for a while.”

  “But that didn’t work out?”

  He chuckled dryly. “Not really,” he replied. Suddenly he didn’t want to talk anymore. “Anyway, as they say, the rest is history.”

  The psychologist seemed to want to say something, but there was a soft chiming from her desk.

  Her perfectly arched eyebrows shot up in surprise.

  “Wow,” she breathed, glancing at the time. “I guess we’re already done with this week’s session.”

  He exhaled slowly and lumbered to his feet, extending his hand.

  “Well, it was a good t
alk, Dr. Margolis,” he told her sincerely. “I’m glad I came.”

  “Honestly, I wasn’t sure you were going to come back after what happened last time,” she said quietly. “I’m glad you did.”

  “I didn’t want to but I know you’re only doing your job. I shouldn’t have given you such a hard time.”

  They offered one another tentative smiles and she accepted his outstretched palm.

  “Next Friday?” she told him. “Last appointment of the day, okay? But we have to start having sessions at the house, too. If we don’t, they might find it a breach of contract and you’ll be ejected from the house.”

  His mind raced with what she had told him.

  “Who told you that?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.

  She shook her head quickly. “I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I wouldn’t want you to be dismissed from the house for any reason. I’m just watching out for you, Andrew. I’ll see you next week here for our real session and we’ll work out a day that I’ll come to the house, all right?”

  “Uh… sure,” he answered, unsure of what else to say. He had aroused her suspicions enough for one day.

  Jesus Christ, how am I going to keep swinging this?

  He turned and exited the inner office, shooting the receptionist a small grin as he left.

  “See you next week!” he called and she glared at him, but there was an uncertainty in her eyes.

  It's okay. You’ll win her over, too. Just stay with it.

  Outside, he turned down the block, dug his keys out of his pocket, and made his way to the parking garage around the corner.

  Inside the Chevy, he pulled an iPhone from the glove compartment and dialed out.

  “Hey, it’s me,” he said when a voice answered. “I just got out of there. What the hell did you do to her? Even her receptionist was giving me nasty looks!”

  “Her receptionist? I haven’t even met that bitch.”

  He stifled a groan.

  “Seriously, what did you do?”

  “What do you mean?” came the smug reply. “I only used my regular charm.”

  “You’re a dick. I had my work cut out for me. She set up another appointment for next Friday.”

  “That bitch and her Friday appointments. It’s like she wants to fuck up my entire weekend with her bullshit. Okay, well—”

  “I can’t do it.”

  The silence was heavy and he waited.

  “Why not?”

  “Because, asshole, I have a life over and beyond doing your bidding. It’s bad enough you dragged me into this, but I am not doing this forever. I have a company and a weyr to take care of. Why am I forever digging you out of shit?”

  “I thought you were doing me a favor. Don’t forget, brother, you owe me.”

  He stared at the phone, willing himself not to smash it against the dashboard.

  “Guilting me will eventually lose its novelty, Andrew. I hope you know that.”

  There was a loud chuckle on the other end of the phone.

  “Until it does, keep up with our sessions.”

  “She’s talking about two sessions a week now, Andrew. One at the house and one at her office. She thinks because I was being decent, that the office sessions are working better.”

  “So? Keep up with them. I guess I’ll have no choice but to do the ones here, although…”

  “No! I am not coming to that house. The risk is too great if they pick us both up on frame.”

  “It won’t do any of us any good if I get thrown back in jail because the dumb bitch doctor can’t take a joke or two,” Andrew complained.

  Alex bit on his lower lip and peered at his reflection in the rear-view mirror.

  “She’s not a bitch, Andrew. She is trying to help you.”

  Andrew whooped. “Well, look who’s all smitten with the head-fucker. Just keep your end of the deal, brother, and I will keep mine.”

  The line went dead and Alex could read the concern in his own face as he lowered the device from his ear.

  Dr. Margolis, while slightly suspicious, had no reason to doubt that he was who he said he was.

  He and Andrew were identical twins, after all, and while the good doctor might have noticed that Andrew had a twin, he doubted that she bothered to determine the type of twins they were.

  Alex had never run in the same rough circles as Andrew. At least not as far as anyone could determine. The doctor knew Andrew had a brother, but would she really look any deeper than that? Not if she didn’t give him cause.

  Alex just had to keep up the charade with the psychologist until they found Davis. Once they tracked down the elusive bastard, they would collect their share of the four million and then they would put the robbery behind them forever.

  At least that was Alex’s hope.

  Chapter Eight

  Something’s Not Right

  There was an almost overwhelming confusion which plagued Maria as she faced yet another weekend, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about her session with Andrew Blaise.

  She could not reconcile the Andrew Blaise she had spoken with that afternoon with the same man she had been dreading to treat all week.

  Has he sincerely given it some thought and decided that it’s best to stop fighting with me? Or is it some sort of ploy? Or does he suffer from some sort of personality disorder?

  She hadn’t been able to see the classic symptoms of personality disorder in him in the last session and she didn’t know what to make of it. Was he onto her diagnosis and acting accordingly, or had she been terribly wrong about him from the start?

  Whatever it was, Maria had to admit she was grateful that the session had gone so well. And suddenly very guilty also.

  Maybe I will get through to him after all, she thought. And then I won’t feel the need to help Rivers with taking him down. I mean, if Andrew can be rehabilitated, he shouldn’t have to suffer his mistakes from the past, should he?

  The likelihood that he suffered from a mental defect was almost nil as it had never been documented, but Maria prided herself on being acute.

  Andrew had almost seemed vulnerable and the realization filled her with more shame. If he genuinely wanted her help, her priority should be in making it so, not assisting Detective Rivers.

  I need to call Rivers and tell him that I’ve changed my mind. I haven’t breached my ethics yet because I haven’t told him anything Andrew and I have discussed, but I’d better call this off before it’s too late.

  As if hearing her thoughts, the home phone rang and she reached across her desk to answer it.

  “Dr. Margolis,” she said into the mouthpiece.

  “Good evening, Doctor. It’s Luke Rivers. I hope you don’t mind me calling you at home.”

  For a moment, Maria felt a flash of irritation course through her.

  Is he going to call me every day? she wondered. I really do need to put an end to this before it goes any further. I can’t help this man and he’s close to crossing a line here.

  Immediately, she felt ashamed, knowing that the cop only wanted justice for his partner. Still, Maria was not in the mood to be bothered at home, especially when she was deep in thought. The detective’s phone calls had become more frequent and Maria’s well-honed instincts told her that the correspondences were beyond professional.

  It’s my own fault; I should never have met him for dinner last week, she thought, but at that time, her mind had been consumed with worry about Andrew Blaise, not about whatever message she was sending to Luke Rivers. It had never really occurred to her that she might be making romantic overtures at him, but the more he called, the more she was beginning to sense that was precisely his train of thought.

  “What can I help you with, Detective?” she asked, trying to keep a cool edge to her voice.

  “I was hoping you might be free for dinner tonight,” he told her and Maria felt herself tense at the words. She knew she had to put her foot down now.

  “I’m sorr
y, but—”

  “Oh, of course. It’s the weekend,” Rivers interjected quickly, but she could hear the slight hurt in his words. “I always lose track of the days when I’m working on a case. I get so involved in what I’m doing, all the days just seem to blend together. It’s just…”

  He trailed off and another pang of shame flittered through her.

  “Yes?” she encouraged him even though she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what he had to say.

  “It’s about Blaise. I think I have a lead on his accomplice, but I need to pick your brain. But I guess it’s been fourteen years. Another few days isn’t going to make any difference.”

  Maria stifled a sigh.

  “No, no,” she replied begrudgingly. “You’ve waited far too long for answers on Detective Curry. I can meet you for dinner. I’m in Scottsdale. Where are you?”

  “I can meet you in Scottsdale,” he answered happily. “How about Lulu Belle’s on East Shea? Give me about forty-five minutes?”

  Maria swallowed her protest and forced a positive note into her voice.

  “Sounds good. See you then.”

  She hung up the phone and stared down at her outfit in regret.

  She had just slipped into her bikini and started the hot tub, but once again, her plans were being foiled by the ex-cons of Perryville.

  From now on, I am not making plans for any weekend except work and stress. That way I won’t be disappointed.

  For a quick moment, she saw her parents’ pitying faces in her mind’s eye and she could almost hear her mother asking her when she was going to find a nice boy and settle down.

  Maybe I should enjoy a night out with a colleague for once in my life.

  ~ ~ ~

  Luke disconnected the call, a small smile toying on his lips.

  So, she agreed to have dinner with me again. That’s a good sign. She feels an attraction between us, too, he thought, placing the phone in the dash.

  There was a knock on his window and Luke jumped slightly, peering up at Staff Sergeant Palmerston. He rolled down his window.

  “Hey, Staff,” he said lazily, smiling at the giant black man. “What are you doing here so late?”

  “I could ask you the same thing,” Palmerston replied shortly.