Risky Temptation

by Hart, Gemma

  Agent Moralez mouth opened and closed, as if wanting to say something more but just wasn’t able to find the nerve to, not after botching that mission. I watched the young man.

  He was a young agent, under thirty years old. And I could tell he was still quite green. His fingers were laced together in front of him in a deceptively calm position but I could see how white the tips were. He was gripping his hands in his nervousness.

  Moralez was just as sweaty as Truman, if not more. And his eyes kept darting back and forth as if expecting the National Guard to stomp on in to rain judgment on him.

  I couldn’t help but be numbly surprised by this choice of field agent. With the slight loss of blood and the minor amount of shock from being shot, I was feeling very loosely connected with my body. But even in this detached state, I couldn’t help but wonder why the FBI would pick such a green agent for this case. This was a highly sensitive and dangerous case, as I was reminded regularly with my meetings with Agent Truman and Hadfield.

  And yet, in the middle of such a dangerous environment, they felt comfortable sending in not just one green agent but two? After all, I wasn’t even trained as a field operative. I was even greener than Moralez.

  “Agent Margot?”

  I looked up saw Agent Hadfield standing above me. He looked tired and worn out but had a slight look of…satisfaction. I stared, confused. This whole raid had been a mess. Months of planning had just been blown up in their faces. I had lost the one man I had wanted to save from this whole situation. Satisfaction was the last thing anyone should be feeling right now.

  “I know you’ve been injured,” he said, nodding towards my bandaged arm. “And we have Moralez and the Juarez Family in custody to deal with. Why don’t you go home and rest and then in a few days, we can call you in to debrief.”

  I was surprised. “You don’t want to debrief me now?” I asked. Wasn’t that standard protocol—to debrief agents as soon as a mission was completed? It made sure that no small details were lost forever to memory.

  Agent Hadfield shook his head. “It’ll take several hours to do and the nurse told me you should get some rest. You’ve lost quite a bit of blood and would be woozy. You might get foggyheaded and recall things incorrectly. It’s better you get some rest,” he said. “We have an agent outside who’s waiting to take you home.”

  Feeling exhausted and somewhat numb, I agreeably followed Agent Hadfield out towards the waiting car. And within a matter of hours, I was at home, tucked into my own bed for the first time in weeks.

  But of course, just because I was in bed, didn’t mean I was able to rest. In fact, I felt more restless than ever. All I could do was keep picturing Marco’s face as I was escorted away.

  The look of such pain and anger slashed at my heart. And in the moonless nights, when I laid in bed, my brain tormented me further by bringing back memories those passionate moments we had shared. It made me relive the sweet touch of his lips against my breasts. My thighs clenched in remembrance of his large cock, filling and stretching me all at once.

  And then of course, the memory of his face from that night became all the more unbearable.

  I wanted to find him. I wanted to rush to him and explain. I wanted to tell him that I had joined the FBI to follow in the footsteps of one of the bravest men I knew, my father. I had joined to help people and to do good. And so I had accepted this mission in hopes that I was doing right by those who could be hurt and victimized by people like the Desmonds.

  But I hadn’t expected to meet someone like Marco. He was sexy and powerful and incredibly smart. But I knew he was also in pain and tortured, mostly caused by his own father. Most men would crack under such horrific pressures. Either they would’ve taken their own life to escape the madness or they would’ve succumbed to the darkness that Roy Desmond exuded, forsaking all evidence of ever having had a heart.

  But I knew Marco had done neither. From the way he had held me to the way he had spoken about his brother, I knew Marco Desmond had a heart. And it was a big one. It was fractured and scarred but it had a terribly large capacity to love and protect.

  And that heart was exactly what I had fallen in love with.

  That is what made me fall in love with Marco Desmond.

  But I knew there was no way to explain any of it. In his eyes, it was a complete betrayal of trust. And I couldn’t fault him for that. How else could he see it?

  I pulled out my keys and opened the front door of my building. I sighed. It was likely I would never see Marco Desmond again. And the pain I felt from that realization was indescribable. But there was no way to get in contact with him again without putting him danger.

  After the debacle of a raid, I could only imagine how crazy Roy Desmond was right now.

  I punched the button for the elevator. As I rode up to my floor in heavy silence, I wondered if the FBI would plan another operation on the Desmonds. Sure they had caught the Juarez Family but the Desmond Family had been the number one target, after all. And they had gotten away. If they were planning another operation….

  I pulled out my keys again and opened the door to my apartment. After all, how many people were as familiar with the Desmond Family as I was? I could be an invaluable asset. Maybe I could be a part of the next operation. And then when the moment was right, I could slip away and try to—

  “Oh my god!” I gasped, as I flicked on the lights.

  Sitting calmly on the living room windowsill was Marco Desmond.

  Dressed in all black with a dark leather jacket, he looked lethal. His square jaw was stubbled and taut. His dark eyes were narrowed as they pinned me to the spot.

  It was really him. It was Marco.

  And it hurt so good to see him.

  My heart pounded like a hummingbird’s both from surprise and the ache to see him. I stared at him, completely wide eyed and stunned.

  We exchanged glances as we seemed to both be figuring out what to say next.

  “Wha…What are you doing here?” I started. I missed you, my heart cried out. But the words couldn’t come past my lips.

  Marco gave me a steely look that made my heart cringe. It looked as if any affection he had felt for me had been melted away. I hoped it wasn’t true but looking into the cool darkness of his eyes, it was hard to believe otherwise.

  This shouldn’t have been surprising to me. I should’ve known someone from the Desmond Family could find me. After all, I was the only one who had not escaped with the Desmonds during the raid. It was odd that given the ambiguousness of the aftermath I wasn’t offered the witness protection program.

  But it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. I would’ve declined the offer had they given me the chance. It was silly and stupid and reckless but I wanted to be traceable. I wanted to leave that door open. In case Marco ever wanted to walk through it.

  And now he had.

  But it was very clear by his expression, he had not found me to confess any kind of loving words. I felt a trickle of sweat slide down my back as I watched him uncross his arms and rise, his tall figure looming against the backdrop of my small apartment.

  “You’re FBI then,” he said. It was a statement but I heard the implicit question within.

  “Yes,” I answered, my throat dry. God, I wanted to explain to him how crazy and convoluted everything had become! How I had never meant for any of this to end the way it did. How I still wanted him in my life. But again, none of those words were able to make it past my lips.

  He stared at me, as if seeing a new me. It hurt for me to think he was recalibrating what he had thought of me. I must look deceptive and fiendish to him now.

  “You didn’t seem like an FBI agent,” he said, watching me.

  I gave a little shake of my head. “My normal department is accounting fraud. I was never trained as a field operative.”

  Marco raised his brows. “And they thought it would be a good idea to send an untrained agent to the Desmond compound?” he asked, clearly thinking the Bureau to b
e completely out of their mind.

  I couldn’t say I disagreed. “They thought I would be less conspicuous since I didn’t ‘seem’ like a classic agent,” I said. I winced internally thinking about how the only reason I had gotten the job was because of my figure and blonde hair.

  A tense silence fell between us.

  “Have you been debriefed?” he asked, his voice hollow and cold.

  I shook my head, my hands aching to touch him. “Not yet,” I said.

  He looked mildly surprised and then his expression turned suspicious. It was unusual for an agent not to have been debriefed by now. He thought I was lying.

  “They wanted me to get some rest first,” I explained, unconsciously touching my injured arm. The bandages were still wrapped around my arm but it was all hidden under my sweater.

  I saw his jaw tighten when I touched my arm.

  Shaking his head, as if to clear it, he asked, “How truthful do you plan to be during your debriefing?”

  I looked up confused. “I don’t understand,” I said. “What do you mean?”

  Marco took a step towards me. With his dark expression, it took everything in me not to take a matching step back.

  “I mean,” he bit out, “do you intend to include any information on Jamie in your debriefing?”

  Surprise lit my face but understanding soon followed. Of course. Jamie’s existence was probably quite unknown, even for the FBI. That worked in not only Jamie’s favor but also Marco’s. Clearly, he was still worried over his brother’s safety.

  I shook my head. “No,” I said firmly. “He has no bearing on this case. It was purely about Roy.”

  I saw Marco’s expression relax just slightly at my words but the mistrust was still there. But there wasn't much more he could do and we both knew that. Giving me a quick nod, he moved to brush past me.

  I couldn’t bear to have him go. Not after how much my heart had been crying out for him. I felt somehow lonelier now after having seen the detachment in his eyes than before.

  “Wait, Marco, please,” I begged, stopping him at the door.

  Marco paused, his back towards me. I was sure he would ignore me and just walk out but instead, he turned his head slightly, giving me the smallest slice of his attention.

  “I…” What could I really say? How could I explain myself? “Marco, there’s no forgiving me, I know. I can only imagine what you must think of me.” I paused. “Actually, I probably couldn’t and wouldn’t want to. But I just want you to know that when I went into the mission, I was only trying to do what I thought was right.”

  Marco stood frozen by the door, not moving or nodding in any way to show acknowledgement.

  “I wanted to do right,” I said, my voice cracking a little. It felt futile to keep talking but I couldn’t help myself. “Roy Desmond has hurt so many people and could hurt so many more. I wanted to help stop him. And that had been my only goal. I had never intended to hurt you.” I swallowed, feeling my throat tighten with emotion.

  “And I won’t ask you to forgive me,” I said, speaking a little louder to cover up my breaking voice. I knew these would be the last words I would ever speak to him and it broke my heart that they wouldn’t be ‘I love you.’ But I persevered. “I know that wouldn’t be reasonable. But I just want you to know that every moment I had with you was completely and truly real. Short of my real occupation, everything I shared with you was real.”

  It was important he knew that.

  I felt my eyes stinging with tears but I held them back by sheer force of will.

  Marco stood by the door with only his shadowed profile visible. He paused for a long moment after I spoke. I hoped he would say something, anything. I just wanted to hear him speak.

  Finally, his hand turned the doorknob.

  “Goodbye, Miss Margot,” he said quietly.

  There, I had heard him speak. And my heart had broken at his words.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Marco

  I let the hot water run over me. I pushed my face against the showerhead, letting the needling spray bounce against my face, absolving me of whatever fucked up feelings I was having.

  I knew I shouldn’t have gone over to Halle’s. There was no reason to. Not really. I told myself it was to keep Jamie safe, to make sure his identity was not compromised. But really, I knew deep inside, it had been to see Halle.

  I had tried my best to prepare myself to see her.

  After the busted Juarez deal, I could hardly contain myself. Every conflicting emotion had flooded me. As I watched Halle be referred to as an ‘Agent’ while be escorted away, I had wanted to punch the nearest tree while simultaneously grabbing her and shaking the shit out of her. I wanted to hear the words from her own lips—“I lied.”

  But then I had seen the ooze of blood that had been flowing down her arm. From her stable condition and the location, I was able to safely guess it was a flesh wound but even still, my chest tightened and my knuckles cracked as I felt the burning desire to pummel whoever had shot her. I had wanted to wrap her in my arms, holding her to me for safe keeping while also wanting to scream at her.

  It had been a last minute change. Instead of calling my private plane and heading towards Europe, I had headed towards Halle and Roy. I knew she was in danger. It was instinctive. And the idea of her being hurt made my bones crawl.

  But I had never expected to find what I had that night. The Juarez Family all under arrest. Halle, shot and injured, being escorted away by the FBI as one of their own.

  And Roy Desmond, long gone from the scene of the crime.

  As far as Roy knew, I was never there. By the time I arrived, he and his men were gone. How had they known to ditch the deal so quickly? If a shoot out had happened like that on any other deal, Roy would’ve made sure to stay till his men had shot and killed everyone to teach them a lesson. A fatal lesson.

  But this time, Roy had had amazing good luck and foresight in leaving the scene quickly and immediately, saving him from the reaching grasp of the law.

  And now Roy was more paranoid than ever. He had beefed up his personal security detail. He threatened his remaining account managers into performing properly, unless they’d want to feel the power of his wrath. I was wondering when he’d ask where Halle had gone but he never did. I guess he assumed she had been killed in the shoot out and he certainly wouldn’t waste time moaning about someone he considered an employee at best, and a servant at worst.

  Who knew when my chance to escape would come again? With the mishap of the deal and Roy’s new found paranoia, it would be nearly impossible. He was holding everyone close to the cuff, including me.

  In fact, it almost seemed as if he was angry with me about the deal’s failure. As if I had somehow played a part in its debacle. I hadn’t even known the date had been changed. Until I had heard about Halle being forced along to the deal, I had no idea the Juarez Family were already in town.

  It was all a mess.

  And so when I tracked down Halle, I had come with a conflicted heart. I had thought that a few minutes to collect myself would be enough but as soon as she had walked through the door, I felt my chest crack and ache again.

  She wore dark jeans and a loose white sweater. It was the most casual I had seen her. Normally at the compound, she was always wearing plain business attire in muted colors as if to draw the most minimal amount of attention. As if that were possible. Not with that face.

  But seeing her dressed so casually, so warmly, she looked better than good. Her long blonde hair tumbled down her back in a loose ponytail and her cheeks were flushed from the slight chill in the outside air. Almost immediately, I wanted to pull her into my arms. I wanted to smell her scent, taste her lips. Regardless of how angry I felt, I had fallen asleep to her image for the last three nights.

  It was hard to see her as a conniving agent who had come into the compound with only a mission to accomplish. She had had such a natural and almost clumsy grace that spoke of someone real and u
ntrained. No professional field agent would’ve gotten drunk at the monthly Desmond dinner, nearly getting herself raped.

  She had clearly been drinking because she hadn’t been a professional. She was an accountant. She had no field training or experience. And so she had felt extremely nervous when she found herself surrounded by possibly the most ruthless and powerful people in the country.

  “They wanted me to get some rest first,” she had said, touching her arm.

  A fiery coal of anger and protectiveness burned within me when I saw her gently touch her injured arm. Who the fuck would send an untrained agent like her into such dangerous territory? Halle was lucky to have only gotten shot. She could’ve easily been killed. Or if Roy had caught wind of who she really was, she could’ve been tortured to death.