“And what do you do for a living in Atlanta, Bud?”
“Have dinner with me and I’ll consider telling you.”
Chapter Four
Nickie had lost her ever-loving mind. She never dated strangers. Ever. She’d learned too much about the world to trust anyone she hadn’t known most of her life.
She scened with people in reputable BDSM establishments, and she trusted her close circle of friends and family. She tried to point light into the shadows to stop the worst of what humans do to each other, and she’d put her own life in danger time and again to do it. However, risking your life to stop a human trafficker was completely different than risking your life to have sex with a hot guy you just met. She was too old for a trafficker to want to abduct her and sell her, but she’d made lots of enemies over the years and this guy obviously had secrets.
She should be safe enough with Bud if they stayed in the resort, though. She had her pepper spray and knife, but it was too bad she couldn’t bring her gun into Mexico on the plane. The resort’s security was paid to keep a closer watch over her, so he shouldn’t be able to drug her and stuff her in a suitcase as long as she didn’t go to his room. Or let him in hers.
Bud had made reservations at the fanciest restaurant in the resort, so she donned a cocktail dress and heels and went all out with her hair and makeup. The polish had chipped off one nail, so she painted it black. The other nails were copper and her dress was black. It worked.
A quick Google search of Bud Jones in Atlanta didn’t turn anything up, but she hadn’t expected it to. She had other resources, but she’d be late if she started searching through them now, and she wasn’t going to have sex with him tonight anyway. Maybe she’d get a real first name at dinner so the search would be easier tomorrow.
On second thought, it couldn’t hurt to alert one of her people in the States and get the ball rolling, just to be safe. She’d secretly taken a few pictures of Bud from across the boat, and she sent them to one of the private investigators she frequently used. He was a lot faster than the investigator at her security firm, and he had no qualms about hacking to get information when he couldn’t find what he wanted through legal means. She started to send a quick email to Tyler, just to keep him in the loop, but decided to wait to see what the PI turned up. Tyler went with her when she travelled as an investigative journalist. He was her security guy, but he managed to do his job without holding her back, most of the time. She trusted him with her life, but she wasn’t sure he needed to be brought in.
She turned her phone’s ringer and vibrator off, and tucked it into her bra so it was practically under her left arm. Her knife was already in the holster hooked to her bra under her left arm — easily accessible with her right hand. Her lipstick went into her bra under her right boob, and her pepper spray went into her left bra cup, aimed so she could reach into her cleavage and quickly pull it out.
A hasty glance in the mirror showed her the image she worked so hard to project — rich, sheltered female with no clue about the real world. No one would guess she could defend herself against most scum of the earth, but she’d fought off bad guys both on her own and alongside hired muscle more times than she wanted to remember. This was society’s idea of beauty and it opened doors for her, so she went with it.
She closed her eyes against the memory of the room full of ten to fourteen year old girls who’d been taken from the suburbs of America and were due to be sold on the auction block to the highest bidder. She’d saved forty-eight girls who were returned to their families, but the human traffickers had walked out of prison within six hours of their arrest, never to be seen again. She’d lost their trail and that was it. Her assistant had told her she’d go crazy if she couldn’t put it behind her, and she’d retorted she just might go crazy if she dropped it and stopped trying. Those men had a network that sold hundreds of girls every month. She hadn’t shut them down at all, and if she could just watch the same channels long enough, she’d find them again.
She shook her head at her own image. The FBI had all her notes. If anyone could find them, they would. She’d done her part, written her story, and it was time to move on.
Tonight, she intended to let her muse turn the delectable Bud into the perfect book-boyfriend. Perhaps it was time to add another novel to her werewolf series.
BUD SLID INTO BLACK dress pants, black dress shoes, and a black dress shirt he left open at the neck. With his shorter haircut, he looked like someone else entirely.
Shadow had left an encrypted message with the information he’d dug up. He’d found several of Nicole’s pseudonyms. Her real name was Nicolette Bell and she was forty-three years old. She lived in a rural town about forty minutes away from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. She didn’t write anything under her real name, but he’d found several pen names. Nicole Blackthorn wrote cozy mysteries, Nick Woods wrote a grumpy private detective series, and Nicoletta Black wrote about werewolves. As usual, Shadow saved the bad news for last and sent Bud to her investigative journalist website. Bud’s heart fell as he saw links to stories she’d done for various news organizations around the world, as well as the non-fiction books she’d published on issues like the international drug trade, human trafficking, and the diamond industry — all written under the name Cole Daniels.
Shadow noted she had other income he was still investigating, but worried she might be doing an exposé on bikers or possibly even the sale of illegal weapons to the Mexican drug cartels. Bud used the hotel notepad to write the names and genres before pressing the button in the app to remove all traces of the message from the server and his phone.
He considered standing her up, but his wolf wanted to face her and he was inclined to agree. They needed to know what she was researching and how he figured into it.
His phone beeped and he opened the encrypted app to see a video request from Shadow.
“Oh, good. Since you just deleted the file from the server, I hoped you’d be able to talk,” Shadow said as his image came onto the screen.
“What’s up?”
“I found another pen name. N. Cole. She writes BDSM romance.”
Bud’s eyebrows lifted as he considered the possibilities. “Yeah, that’ll come in handy at dinner. Anything else?”
“Reviewers seem to think she’s in the lifestyle, based on the way she writes it.”
“Still nothing to point to ATF or DEA?”
“No, and I’ve accounted for all her income now. The last was hardest to find because she self publishes the BDSM titles under an LLC and not through a publisher. Oh, one other interesting tidbit, hard to find because it’s from before the town’s papers and police department were computerized, but in her early days as a journalist she once spent three days in jail for refusing to give up the name of an informant. She never gave them the name, but she helped solve the crime and was released for her help. A compromise, basically, to keep the police department from looking like heartless bastards because she easily had the media on her side.”
Interesting. The woman had strong morals, but he’d already guessed that. “Okay. I’m about to meet her for dinner. Initiate an encrypted voice call if you find something else I should know right away. Otherwise, just send it through so I can grab it later.”
Bud headed downstairs and smiled at Nicole, who was casually waiting for him near an artificial waterfall just outside the entrance to the restaurant. She’d situated herself so no one could walk up behind her — so many of her actions screamed law enforcement or military, and yet Shadow hadn’t been able to find anything.
Nicole had worn a knife on a holster at her hip for the dive and she was comfortable using it, as if she had a lot of experience or practice. When she’d needed to cut a package open topside, she’d reached for it and flicked it open as if it were second nature. He scanned her from head to toe now to look for signs of a weapon. She’d think he was looking her over sexually, which was fine with him. No weapons showed, and the dress was too form-fitting aroun
d her waist for the knife to be there, but he’d be willing to bet money she had it on her. Under the arm, perhaps? Or maybe inner thigh.
If she wasn’t a government agent and was really just an author, who was she afraid of?
Click to continue reading Bud and Nicole’s story.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Candace Blevins has published more than thirty-five books. She lives with her husband of twenty years and their two daughters. When not working or driving young teens all over the place, she can be found reading, writing, meditating, or swimming. The family’s beloved, goofy, retired racing greyhound is usually at her side as she writes, quietly keeping her company.
Candace writes Urban Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, Contemporary BDSM Romance, and a kick-ass Motorcycle Club series.
Her urban fantasy series, Only Human, gives us a world where weredragons, werewolves, werelions, three different species of vampires, and a variety of other mythological beings exist.
Candace's two paranormal romance series, The Chattanooga Supernaturals and The Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club, are both sister series to the Only Human series, and give some secondary characters their happily ever after.
Her contemporary Safeword series gives us characters who happen to have some extreme kinks. Relationships can be difficult enough without throwing power exchange into the mix, and her books show characters who care enough about each other to fight to make the relationship work. Each couple in the Safeword series gives the reader a different take on the lifestyle.
You can visit Candace on the web at candaceblevins.com and feel free to friend her on Facebook at facebook.com/candacesblevins and Goodreads at goodreads.com/CandaceBlevins. You can also join facebook.com/groups/CandacesKinksters to get sneak peeks into what she's writing now, images that inspire her, and the occasional juicy teaser.
Stay up to date on Candace’s newest releases, and get exclusive excerpts by joining her mailing list!
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