Risky Temptation

by Hart, Gemma

  Jamie took his chance to roll his own eyes. “Nooo but—”

  “Dogs!” Halle had interrupted, clearly having had enough of our argument. “What about we each pick a type of dog?”

  And that had settled it. I didn’t really know any breeds except German Shepherds but Jamie insisted I be something more unique. I was Boston Terrier. Jamie was Giant Schnauzer. Halle was Labradoodle, which I had thought was a made up name Jamie was trying to pull on me.

  Either way, once the code words were spoken and received, it meant danger was afoot and to keep an alert. I now knew Jamie was safe and he knew that something was wrong and to keep a keen eye out.

  Not too many people knew about Jamie but even still, as a Desmond, he needed to have his wits about him.

  I tossed my phone and sighed. With that done, next came a more unpleasant type of phone call.

  I walked stiffly towards the bedroom and picked up the black phone. In it was only one number. Lestrade’s.

  At the moment, I had no choice but to call Lestrade and listen to his offer. I had no idea where the Black Saints headquarters was or if Halle was even being kept there.

  For now, I would play his game.

  I hit dial on the number. I listened as the phone rang.

  But Lestrade and any fucker from Black Saints should know, I would do absolutely everything to find Halle. I would tear London down brick by brick if I had to and whatever Lestrade’s reputation or skill was, I would rip out his teeth with my bare hands to find and bring back Halle.

  That’s what Lestrade was getting when he met me.

  I’ve been a caged tiger before. For years, I had to play by Roy Desmond’s rules and pretend to be under his thumb. I know what bondage like that feels like.

  But in the end, who was lying cold in the ground with four bullets pumped into him?

  Not me, that’s who.

  “Hello?”

  “Tell me where and when, Lestrade,” I said shortly.

  “Gladly,” Tobias replied.

  Chapter Six

  Marco

  “This isn’t as inconspicuous as I thought the Black Saints liked to be,” I said as I looked around the tearoom.

  We were in the famous and long respected Garrison Hotel in London. Specifically, we were in their tearoom, Twelve Roses, where they were known for their high teas. When Lestrade had announced to me our meeting place, I had thought he had had a stroke. Who meets in such a place to give out a hit job?

  The room was built with dark woods and warm interiors but even with the rich furnishings, I couldn’t help but feel like a bull in china shop. Especially since there actually was so much delicate china.

  I straightened in my seat, my tea cup untouched before me.

  Lestrade took a sip from his own cup. “We aren’t in a spy film,” he chided casually. “This isn’t all cloak and daggers.”

  I raised a brow. Oh wasn’t it? “I thought sitting in wait in someone else’s home was pretty fucking cinematic, if you ask me,” I said.

  Lestrade couldn’t help but grin. “Well, a little flourish here and there doesn’t hurt of course.”

  “Of course,” I echoed shortly, fighting the compulsion to drive my fist through his teeth.

  Seeming to sense my desire, Lestrade’s grin only widened. He was enjoying this little play.

  I ground my teeth.

  “Where’s Halle?” I asked, feeling the muscles in my neck twitch from holding back my anger.

  Lestrade placed his cup delicately back into its saucer. “She’s doing splendidly. No harm has come to her. Unless I miss my guess, I’m quite sure she’s also enjoying some refreshments right now in the privacy of her own room.”

  With Lestrade, it was hard to guess the truth of his words. But even if he was keeping her in fucking Buckingham Palace, I didn’t care. Because anywhere Lestrade was, was danger. And if there was danger to be met, I would be the one keeping her safe.

  Lestrade glanced at my untouched cup. “You Americans are all the same,” he sighed. “No appreciation for anything refined.”

  “Just get to the fucking point,” I said, fighting against my natural instinct to bury my fist in his gut. I had to fight the urge. Right now, he had the upper hand. He had Halle. Piss off or annoy Lestade and I might never find out where she is.

  With another sigh, Lestrade nodded. “Very well,” he said. Although we were speaking in normal tones, I felt very conspicuous in the open space. Lestade clearly felt at total ease.

  “Have you ever heard of Marshall Copper?” Lestrade asked.

  I raised a brow, surprised. “Of course,” I replied. “The millionaire. He ran one of the biggest oil companies in the world before stepping down and starting some tech firm.”

  “Very succinct,” Lestrade commented. “And accurate. He ran Copper Oil for nearly two decades before stepping down and handing the reigns to his successor. Now he’s the head of Turn Tech Security and creating quite a name for himself, despite getting into the tech industry as a seventy two year old man.”

  “Well, a few hundred million dollars later and I doubt age will ever hold you back from any career choice,” I said, not interested in commentary.

  Lestrade grinned. “Sharp and cynical,” he laughed. “My favorite kind of humor.”

  As if I felt like making the bastard laugh. “What about Copper?”

  “We want you to kill him,” Lestrade answered simply.

  The tearoom still hummed with its quiet elegance as patrons enjoyed their fragrant drinks and delicate bites. No one seemed perturbed or shocked that a man had just ordered the death of one of the world’s most notable and famous millionaires.

  “Why?” I asked. Although what I really wanted to ask was, are you fucking insane? Do you know the kind of headlines that would make? I didn’t deal in covert poisons or pillow smotherings. I dealt in cold hard bullets and knives. When I killed, you knew it. There was nothing accidental in my methods.

  How would it look to have one of the world’s most notorious millionaires just drop dead from a bullet in the brain?

  Killing off competing mobsters and drug dealers, hardly anyone cared to pick that up as an actual news story. I dealt my hits on the seedy and criminal. I did not work in the public eye where people would definitely notice the target being dead.

  Lestrade gave a broad shrug. “Do you need a specific reason? The man is definitely no saint. Personally, he’s been accused of assaulting several women in his own employ. He’s been divorced twice, with both wives accusing him of brutal rape and abuse. Oh, and let’s not forget when he also assaulted his fourteen year old stepdaughter. That was lovely. Professionally, he has knowingly drilled in multiple ecologically fragile areas. He’s flooded the ocean with oil spills at least a dozen times with one of the spills killing a large coral reef that dated several hundreds of years back. He fought countless zoning regulations and ecological conservation acts so that he could make a few million more while making the oceans that much more polluted and devastated. Taking him out would hardly be repayment enough to the environment or the world.”

  I stared at him in disbelief. “So you want me to take him out because you care about ex-wives and fish,” I said slowly, as if saying it out loud would make it sound less ridiculous.

  “Well, the fish are important,” he said with a straight face, “and so are the wives. But so is governmental security.”

  I had no idea how fish and government security went hand in hand but I waited with the little patience I had for his explanation.

  “Marshall Copper started Turn Tech Security with Thomas Aldridge. Aldridge is the man who has singlehandedly drawn up more high security servers and systems than anyone else in the world. Working for several different firms over the years, he created the government software and server for not only the UK but also the Netherlands, France, Germany, Spain—I mean, the list goes on.”

  Lestrade took a refresher of tea.

  “Then he was recruited by Marshall Copper
and together they worked to provide the best private security services anyone had ever created. But the people of note who would be the highest paying clients already had the best security, thanks to Aldridge.” Lestrade cocked a head. “So what did they do? They went over every single plan of Aldridge’s. And after months of working together, they found a common loophole, a small tiny backdoor in all of his systems. Normally it would be considered so small to be negligible but to someone like Copper and Aldridge, it was their golden ticket.”

  “So what, he hacked his own systems?” I asked.

  Lestrade nodded. “Exactly! They had the ultimate tool. The ultimate backdoor key to every government’s security.” He gave a shrewd look. “And now who has clients begging at his front doors?”

  “You mean governments actually caved to this man?” I was incredulous. I knew governments had their weak points but to be crippled by one man and his key was unbelievable.

  “Sometimes, the upper hand is also the ultimate hand,” Lestrade replied without rancor, clearly not bothered either way. “But now Copper is getting out of hand. He is bargaining with the information of individual countries against each other. He is trying to use government secrets and information as bargaining chips.”

  “And parties are interested,” I said, stating a fact. I wouldn’t be here if there weren’t interested parties.

  “Oh very much,” Lestrade replied. “You’d think that they’d all band together to fight off Copper but it’s too tempting to know what your neighbors are doing and thinking. Plus, once Copper offers his goods to the Middle East, all hell will break loose.”

  Lestrade shrugged as he took another sip of tea. “So you know,” he said casually. “Kill him for the fish. But also for this too.”

  “If he dies by bullet to the brain,” I said slowly, “it could cause international waves. No doubt there are plenty of other black market organizations interested in what Copper has. You take out Copper, you send a strong message that the Black Saints exist and they take care of their own. Do you feel like stepping out of the shadows like that?”

  “Sometimes it’s good to see the face of the monster once in awhile,” Lestrade said. “People need to know that there will be a response to such attacks. And you’re right. A lot of people are setting their eyes on Copper and his magic key. So that’s why you need to kill Copper and steal the key.”

  I raised my brow. “Oh so now I’m stealing too?”

  Lestrade nodded. “The key. Turn Tech has a very elaborate server room so you’ll have to find a way to break in and steal the key that’s been hidden there. It will be quite difficult,” he said without apology.

  “And why are you getting me to do something this sensitive?” I asked. There had to be dozens of other Black Saints members who would be better suited for this mission.

  Lestrade lowered his cup and gave me an assessing look. “You’re skilled, clearly. Your reputation crossed the Atlantic, if you didn’t know. But also we’re choosing you for the exact reason you stated—Copper’s death could cause international waves. The ramifications aren’t known yet. Perhaps terrorist cells will erupt in search for the key. Perhaps governments will fight, accusing each other of possessing the key. Or perhaps nothing will happen and everyone will be happy to be rid of one less subhuman.”

  “But you doubt that,” I said conclusively.

  Lestrade grinned. “I doubt that.”

  “So you want to show the face of the monster,” I said, understanding his plan now, “but you want me to be its body, keeping the rest of the Black Saints safe.”

  “It’s what we think is best,” Lestrade said simply.

  We of course meant the council that ran Black Saints. The shadowy and mysterious council comprised of all the highest ranking members of the planet’s elite. Lestrade was here enforcing their decision.

  I looked out the window and watched as people passed by on the street, enjoying the rare sunny day. The tearoom clinked with delicate echoes of china cups being placed back in their fragile saucers.

  “So,” I finally said. “You want me to break into what is probably the highest guarded tech company and steal an internationally coveted key that could potentially unleash world peace or world war—you don’t know which. And then kill a man whose name is known in all of the Western world.”

  Lestrade smiled blandly. “Pretty much summed it up,” he said.

  “And where does Halle play into this?” I asked, asking the only question I’d been thinking this entire time.

  “She goes free into your waiting arms the minute I get the key,” he said.

  No wonder the Black Saints wanted an outsider to take on this mission. It was fucking nuts.

  If I were to fail at any point, get caught, be noticed, I wouldn’t just go to prison. There’d be no trial for me. Copper and his gang are probably already rubbing knees with the black market. To keep my mouth shut from the public, no doubt some Family or mafia would send out a hit on me. And if they didn’t, the Black Saints would. They valued their anonymity above all else and would make sure that I died before ever uttering their name aloud.

  And without my life as a bargaining chip, Halle was in even greater danger. Because who needs bait when the fish is dead?

  This was an impossible mission that was a guaranteed death sentence.

  But it was either this or lose Halle.

  “Send me the details,” I said. “I’ll be prepped within a week.”

  Chapter Seven

  Halle

  I looked around the table. “This is…elaborate,” I said. “Especially for just two people.”

  Back in the sitting room, a small table had been prepared with a cream linen tablecloth and a vase of beautiful white peonies. Mouthwatering food, immaculately prepared, were plated for two people.

  I shifted in my seat, feeling a little uncomfortable in my dress.

  I had been taken from my home with literally just the clothes on my back. And they weren’t even very practical clothes. My figure hugging black dress and heels were not very helpful or covering for my situation.

  But I hadn’t had to feel to uncomfortable for very long. The very next day, I found several large packages placed outside my door. Wrapped in a textured paper and tied elegantly with twine, I stared hesitantly at them. I was not in a place where I should be expecting presents. So then…what? Were these traps?

  I stared over the boxes longer than I probably should’ve. But I finally decided to bring them in, figuring leaving them out might cause more problems than bringing them in.

  Unwrapping them, I found carefully purchased and folded clothes in each box. And not just clothes. Underclothes, as well. I blushed as I held up silky panties and bras, perfectly sized to me. In fact, every item was a perfect fit. I was beginning to wonder if someone had come in at night while I had been sleeping and secretly measured me.

  It was clear who these gifts were from. In my short time here in the Black Saints headquarters, I had only had prolonged contact with one person—Tobias.

  As reluctant as I was to accept these gifts, I realized I couldn’t sleep and eat in my tight dress forever.

  I found a comfy oversized cashmere sweater and a pair of leggings. Curling up in the new clothes, I took all my meals privately. So far, no one had dared to molest or bother me, just as Tobias had promised.

  The meals arrived at my door with a discreet knock indicating their arrival. I hardly had any appetite but I nibbled on the food enough to recognize that this was incredible caliber cuisine. Clearly the Black Saints did not have low budget tastes on anything, whether it pertained to décor or dinner.

  I had worried that Tobias would try to interrogate me. With someone close to Marco right under his nose, I was sure the temptation would be too much for him to not grill me.

  But to my surprise, he kept his distance. For two days, I had only my meals and my thoughts to occupy my time. And with how worried I was for Marco, that suited me just fine. I was pretty sure I couldn�
�t hold onto a normal conversation anyway. My brain was firing worries on every cylinder.

  And Jamie. God, I hoped Jamie was okay!

  My phone had immediately been taken away upon my capture. Either way, I probably wouldn’t have felt comfortable texting Jamie our code word to check on his safety just in case someone would be searching my phone.

  I just hoped he was okay.

  And Marco….

  I knew without a shadow of a doubt he was searching for me. That I knew. But what I didn’t know was what he was fighting against or gambling with to find me.