The Devil You Know

by Morgan James

  A smile curved her face as she slipped the card into her purse and adjusted the strap over her shoulder. “Thanks. I’ll keep your offer in mind.”

  Blake studied her for another moment. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes. Thank you again.” She took a few steps away before turning back to him. “Victoria was right. You’re a good man, Mr. Lawson.”

  Momentarily taken aback, Blake froze, unable to respond. Finally, he cleared his throat and nodded to the woman. “Thank you, Dr. Winfield.”

  She strode away and his brow furrowed. Victoria had been talking about him? A slow smile spread across his face. That was a good sign, right? Hell yeah, it was. Whistling, Blake strode to the elevator bank. It was time to make some rounds, see if he could catch a glimpse of his pretty little doctor.

  Chapter Ten

  Blake unlocked the door and stepped into the brightly lit interior of their newly remodeled office. The smell of fresh paint and carpet wafted up to him and he inhaled deeply. This place was lightyears away from what it’d looked like barely a month ago.

  He shot a glance toward the reception desk to his right. A desktop computer sat on the Formica countertop, waiting to be hooked up, along with an array of wires and miscellaneous office supplies.

  Con strode around the corner, his steps slowing as his eyes fell on Blake. “I thought I heard the door. Come on back.”

  “Place looks great, it’s really coming along.”

  Con nodded as he headed down the hallway toward his office. “Still have to bring in all the furniture and get everything hooked up, but we should be up and running in another two weeks or so.”

  He strode into his office and gestured at Blake to follow. “Abby will be here next week, and two of the guys just flew in a couple days ago. You’ll get to meet them soon.”

  Blake nodded absently and dropped into a seat. “How’d the meetings go?”

  “Not bad. I was able to get our name out there, make a few contacts, so hopefully we’ll get some business here soon. In fact”—Con swiped a piece of paper off his desk—“I may have a new job for you if you’ve changed your mind about working at the healthplex.”

  Blake tipped his head. “What’s that?”

  “Some local up-and-coming pop star needs security for an event—”

  Blake held up a hand. “Hard pass.”

  His friend’s gaze rose to meet his. “Do you have something else lined up?”

  “I’ve only got a couple weeks left with Victoria. I’ll just stay on.”

  Con raised a brow. “Victoria?”

  “Dr. Carr,” he quickly amended.

  “Victoria.” The way Con said her name had Blake’s blood simmering with barely restrained anger. “The same woman you couldn’t stand a week ago.”

  Blake rolled the tension from his shoulders. “She’s not that bad.”

  “Apparently.”

  Blake’s lips thinned at his friend’s sarcasm. “I made a promise and I’ll stick it out.”

  “I have no doubts about that,” his friend muttered under his breath before turning away and striding behind his desk. He sank into his chair and pinned Blake with his intense brown gaze. “You’re like a brother to me.”

  “I—”

  “Which means I will fucking kill you if you shit where you eat.”

  Blake rolled his eyes. “Don’t be dramatic.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” Con shot back. “If you want to fuck her, by all means, do it. Just wait ‘til the contract is up. But for God’s sake, don’t ruin a good thing for a piece of ass.”

  Before he realized what he was doing, Blake was out of his chair, one hand fisted in Con’s shirt. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

  Con’s eyes blazed into his for a moment before dropping pointedly to Blake’s hand. “Is that how it’s going to be?”

  Blake forced his fingers to unfurl from his friend’s shirt and raked them through his hair as he turned away, pacing the small office. “It’s nothing.”

  “Must be something.”

  Blake shook his head. “No. You’re right.”

  Con pursed his lips. “You want her.”

  He shot his friend a dirty look. “I told you I won’t touch her.”

  “Do you really think some piece of tail is worth—?”

  “Enough.” Too late, Blake realized the comment for what it was, Con’s way of riling him. The corner of his friend’s mouth lifted in a smirk before he let out a sigh.

  “Look. I trust you, I just don’t trust her.” Blake opened his mouth to protest, but Con cut him off. “It’s not her personally, I just don’t trust anyone. I don’t want to end up with our asses in the wringer before we even get off the ground.”

  Blake nodded his assent. “I know. She’s not like that, though. She’s... I don’t know.”

  “You like her.” It was more statement than a question, and Blake shrugged one shoulder noncommittally.

  “Like you said—she’s off limits so I’ll keep my distance from now on.”

  Maybe. Goddamn, it would be hard. He knew it was the right thing to do, yet... he wanted her. She was like an addiction that he couldn’t kick. It had started last week when he’d held her while she cried. And now, with her new clothes and come-hither attitude—the past two days had almost killed him. He’d initially thought she might have a date last night when he saw her all dressed up. But then she’d shown up this morning in an equally sexy new outfit and thrown a coy glance his direction. If she was trying to get his attention, then she had it. Maybe the transformation was for him. An overwhelming sense of satisfaction and possessiveness flowed through him at the thought.

  The emotion must have shown on his face because Con’s eyes narrowed. “Something happen that I need to be aware of?”

  Instantly on the defense, Blake’s next words were curt. “Nope.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Fuck off, Con.”

  “Goddamn it.” His friend threw his hands in the air before leveling an angry glare at Blake. “I knew I should’ve taken over when you first came to me. Did you pull a disappearing act like usual?”

  “Look, asshole, I haven’t slept with her.”

  Yet. They both heard the unspoken word hanging in the air, and Con’s eyes narrowed.

  “So you haven’t slept with her?”

  “No.”

  “But you plan to.” Con leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together over his midsection.

  “Is this a fucking interrogation now?” Blake glared at his friend.

  “Yes. This is business, not pleasure. All you have to do is keep your dick in your pants for a while.”

  “Trust me, asshole, you don’t have to worry about that.”

  A slow grin spread over his friend’s mouth. “So that’s the problem. Wondered why you were so bitchy.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “Sounds like that’s exactly what you need. Go get some, just not one of our clients.”

  “I don’t want some random piece of ass.”

  “She’s that good?”

  “Con...” The name was a warning.

  His friend laughed. “Wow. I never thought I’d see the day.”

  Blake propped his hands on his hips and glared over the desk at his friend. “What now?”

  “The woman. You like her.”

  “I already told you—”

  “I heard what you said.” Con’s head tipped to the side, those dark eyes pinning Blake in place. “But I’m more interested in what you didn’t say.”

  Blake didn’t have a snappy retort for that one. Con was right. He hadn’t even slept with the woman and he was already tied up in knots. Damn it. The sooner they figured out who’d called her and what the psychopath wanted, the sooner he could deal with their relationship—or whatever the hell it was.

  He exhaled, long and slow. “I don’t know. Haven’t spent enough time with her to know for sure. But she’s not just some piece of ass, so don’t bring that shit
up again.” Con just raised a brow and Blake dipped his chin before rolling his eyes. “I won’t jeopardize the business. Promise.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay.”

  They stared at each other for a long minute before Con pursed his lips. “So... no on the diva, then?”

  “That would be a ‘hell no.’ I’m not going to play babysitter for some bratty little girl.”

  A wry grin twisted Con’s face. “Well, I’ll be damned if I’m going to do it. The other guys better show up by this weekend so I can put one of them on detail.”

  Blake smirked. “It would serve your nosey ass right.”

  His friend flipped him off and Blake let out a hearty laugh. “Did you get those fucking horrible shirts replaced yet?”

  Con rolled his eyes. “Being stateside has turned you into such a pussy.”

  Despite his words, Blake watched his friend reach below his desk and extract something from a box. Con tossed the shirt across the desk and Blake caught it midair. Holding it wide, he inspected the solid black polo with their company name embroidered in white over the chest, the logo on the left sleeve.

  Blake grinned. “At least I won’t get laughed at in this one.”

  Con’s stared fixed on him, and he wanted to recall his words. His friend knew he didn’t give a damn what anyone thought of him. Except...

  “She’s a nice girl.”

  One dark brow lifted. “Nice?”

  Blake bristled at Con’s disbelieving tone. “Don’t make it sound so horrible. She’s had a streak of shit luck here recently. I feel bad for her.”

  “Is that all it is?”

  Was that it? He was attracted to her, and she to him. Wasn’t that enough? He had a feeling the answer was no. He admired her, wanted to know more about her—what she liked, what made her tick. He’d felt bad for her that evening, but she’d avoided him at all costs over the past few days.

  His shy little doctor would never make the first move. He’d left his number for her, but she hadn’t called, hadn’t approached him since that night. Each time he saw her in the lobby, she’d duck her head and practically run from him until she was in the safety of the elevator. Then... then she gave him the look—the one that told him how much she wanted him, even if she wouldn’t admit it to herself. He scared her, and it was up to him to relieve her fears, show her how good it would be between them.

  “No.”

  He didn’t elaborate and he was thankful that his friend didn’t pry. He couldn’t explain it himself, but he knew that there was more to her—to them—than just mutual attraction. And Blake was determined to find out just what it was.

  Chapter Eleven

  Victoria waved goodbye to Mrs. Meyers and escorted the last patient of the day to the door. Strolling back to the desk, she glanced at her watch and counted down the time until Kate would get there. Not quite half an hour. She dropped into the chair and turned her attention to the unanswered messages cluttering her email. Most of it was junk—marketers trying to sell stuff, updates from various journals and magazines, as well as other non-work-related stuff.

  She clicked through them on autopilot, her mind drifting down to the first floor of the building. To him. The look he’d given her Monday when she strode across the lobby in her new sexy high heels and red blouse had turned her cheeks almost the same color as her shirt.

  He’d watched her like a panther stalking its prey, his assessing eyes canvassing every inch of her body, looking like he wanted to devour her. She grinned. He’d been barely able to restrain himself when she came in this morning, catching himself only after he’d taken several steps toward her. From the hungry look he’d given her, she knew it was driving him crazy. But he’d put the ball in her court, and he was waiting for her to make the first move.

  Now that she had his attention, though, she wasn’t quite sure what to do. She didn’t flirt with men—she didn’t know how. She’d continue to put herself out there, tempt him, slowly draw him in and then... then what? Was she ready to take the next step? She drew in a sharp breath. Yes. It was time to move on. She was done hiding behind flimsy excuses and ugly clothes.

  She’d never been the instigator, never played hard to get. She had no idea what had come over her when she’d kissed Blake the other night. The man addled her senses, turned her inside out. All she knew was, she needed more—more of his touch, more of those addictive kisses that rocked her to her core. The memory of his mouth on hers, his hands low on her hips, sent a rush of anticipation curling through her.

  “Miss Victoria?”

  Victoria jerked her head up, heat blossoming over both cheeks. “Yes?”

  Phyllis offered her a kind—and slightly sly—smile. “I’m headin’ home now, miss. You be all right by yourself?”

  “Oh. Yes, yes.” She waved her hand at the woman. “Please just lock the outer door when you leave. I’m almost done here anyway.”

  “All right, dear. You be careful and I’ll see you in the mornin’.”

  “Thank you, Phyllis.”

  Victoria smiled as the woman departed with a wink, the outer door closing with a snap less than a minute later. Pushing thoughts of Blake from her mind, she cleared up the last few emails and shut down her computer, then checked her phone. Still no Kate. Since the office door was locked now, she expected Kate to call once she got up here, but Victoria figured her last appointment had run late.

  Gathering up her things, she made her way out of the office and locked up. Her gaze darted between the elevator and the door to the stairwell. She really should take the stairs. The cardio would do her good, but... She glanced down to the three-inch heels adorning her feet and sighed. The elevator it was. She punched the button for the second floor and relaxed against the railing as the car began its descent.

  The doors parted with a soft ding and Victoria stepped into the dim lobby on Kate’s floor. No one remained in the waiting room and the eerie silence grated on her nerves. Straightening a chair as she passed, she walked toward the door leading to the inner office. A handful of lights were still on, and she glanced through the rectangular window in the door, hoping to catch a glance of a familiar face. She waited a beat, then knocked loudly, hoping to get someone’s attention. The door rattled loosely in its frame and Victoria jumped back. Tentatively, she reached out a hand and grasped the handle. Under the slight pressure, the door swayed toward her.

  That was odd. Just like in her office, the doors were supposed to be locked at all times, for the safety of the staff as well as the patients. Why would Kate leave it unlocked? Maybe she’d guessed that Victoria would come down since she was running late. Grasping the door handle, she jiggled lightly but it remained frozen in place, the locking mechanism still engaged. So why had the door opened on its own?

  Ice slithered down her spine as she peered at the striker plate on the door, the catch jammed so it wouldn’t close properly. She peeked around the door, but the labyrinth of hallways and patient exam rooms remained quiet. Cautiously stepping into the inner office, she closed the door softly behind her and approached the first exam room on silent feet. The light was off but she peeked in, heart racing, half expecting someone to jump out at her.

  Seeing nothing out of place, she continued down the hallway toward the back of the building where Kate’s office was located. Calming her racing heart, she forced her nerves to quiet and took several deep breaths. The stress of the last few weeks was definitely catching up to her, making her anxious and jittery. She just needed to wind down and relax a bit, and tonight would be the perfect solution. A couple of drinks with Kate would go a long way to relieving her anxiety. They’d both been under a lot of stress lately—she with the murder a couple weeks back followed by Rachel’s suicide and Kate with her ongoing divorce. They both deserved tonight. Maybe she’d even drop a hint to Blake on her way out, let him know where they’d be in case he wanted to show up. A little liquid courage never hurt, right?

  A soft cry stopped Victoria in her tracks,
and her head swiveled left and right, trying to discern where the sound had come from. A combination of fear and trepidation kept her from calling out as she moved quickly but quietly toward Kate’s office where the lights blazed brightly. The deep baritone of a man’s voice floated toward her, but she couldn’t make out the words.

  Victoria rested her hand on the doorframe before peering around the corner. A man dressed in all black stood with his back to her, and the metallic object clutched in his left hand glinted under the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights. Kate lay on the ground at his feet, auburn hair fanned around her head, highlighting the gash that split her forehead.

  Victoria’s soft gasp alerted the man to her presence and he spun toward her. His face was covered by a mask, obscuring his features except for the brown eyes that appeared almost black as he scowled and took a step toward her. A scream caught in her throat as she dropped her purse and fled back down the hallway, her only thought of getting away from him and getting help for Kate. She rounded the corner at a dead run and sprinted toward the door. Afraid to slow down, she threw all of her weight against it, and it slammed against the outer wall with a loud bang.

  She tossed a quick glance over her shoulder, but the man was nowhere to be seen. Praying he was making his escape and not hurting Kate, Victoria bypassed the elevators and shoved open the door to the stairwell. The high heels slowed her down, and as she rounded the last landing, the heel of her right shoe skidded precariously on the concrete. Desperately trying to regain her balance, she grabbed for the railing as she pitched forward. Propelled by the momentum, she tumbled down the stairs, and landed in a heap at the bottom with a miserable groan. Her back and bottom ached from where they’d bounced against the sharp angles of the stairs, and her palms and knees were red and skinned from scraping the hard floor. Adrenaline forced her unsteadily to her feet, and she yanked open the door to the lobby.

  “Help!” She ran toward the small security room near the reception area, and a tall, broad form filled the space as the door swung open. “Blake! Thank God, we need to hurry!”