Against the Odds

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Against the Odds Page 4

by Tori Carson


  His left hand rubbed the back of his neck. He had more questions than answers. Where was she going? How often had she walked these dangerous streets alone? Why all the secrecy? Most important of all, what could possibly be worth this risking of her life?

  A rat skittered out of a side road, Polk Street, if he wasn’t mistaken. He stood perfectly still listening to the sounds of cars. It amazed him how much traffic there was even in the wee hours of the morning. Glancing down the avenue, he could see a woman selling her wares on Van Buren. Without any promising leads, he headed down Polk.

  Movement caught his eye, a small figure scaling the block fence of a storage lot. The odds were a million to one it was Sasha, but he followed anyway. To Sid’s relief, the area was dim and the asphalt gummy from the sun beating on it all day. It allowed him to move quickly in relative silence. He got within a few yards, just close enough to be sure it was indeed Sasha. He watched as she unlocked the padlock on a climate-controlled storage unit. He had no chance to look inside. The door slid open only high enough for her to scoot underneath then was quickly lowered again. Sid took note of the address and unit number, planning to pay it a private visit.

  * * * *

  Desman looked at the sketches. He’d seen them before. Oh, not these exact sketches, but there was no mistaking the artist. It was time to tango. He picked up the phone and made the call, dialing the number by heart. This time the bitch would not escape him. There could be no further slip-ups. “There’s a bolt that needs returned to the fold,” he informed his most cut-throat associate. He was perfect for this assignment once set on the trail he never came back empty-handed.

  “Right away, Mr. Desman.”

  He crumpled the sketch and tossed it into the can beside his desk. Once he had his hands on her again, he’d settle a couple of scores. Even Hawkings, the pain in the ass attorney in charge fiscally of both Desman’s Designs and his trust fund, would have to admit Alexa had been on the run all this time. He wasn’t sure what he was looking forward to most, crushing Hawkings or ending Alexa and finally getting the inheritance that was due him.

  Chapter Three

  Sasha arrived at work early. She went into her office and locked the door. All night long she had avoided the inevitable. Now it was decision time. Did she stay and fight, or run?

  What the hell was there worth staying for? On the other hand, what was the purpose in running? Her existence could scarcely be called a life. Her only friend was an abused horse who needed a real home as badly as she did. Could spending an hour in the company of a man really make her change her entire way of existing?

  Apparently, yes. During her dinner with Jacob, she’d felt alive for the first time in years. Naturally she’d had to stay on her toes, censor her responses and remember all her lies, but she had let her guard down a bit and damn, it had felt good. The way he’d looked at her… A shiver went down her spine. Maybe what she needed was to get laid. Women had needs too.

  The situation was similar to Simon, yet Jacob was so different. Simon had been all over her, always touching her in some way or asking probing questions. Jacob talked to her, he didn’t question her, and other than checking her for injuries that morning in the desert, he’d never touched her.

  Was that the appeal? The fact that his gaze alone could set fire to her panties? She kept replaying their time together. Whenever he’d looked at her, she’d felt as if he was seeing the real woman, the woman buried underneath so much baggage no one should even guess at her existence. He made her feel vulnerable, yet protected. What would it be like to have one person on this earth who she could be herself with, to let her hair down and share all her deep dark secrets with and know he would still be there for her? A woman would do anything for a man like that.

  “Ms. Powell?”

  The disembodied voice of her secretary sent her jumping out of her chair. She’d completely lost track of where she was and that she wasn’t alone. Maybe a quickie was what she needed to get her mind off Jacob’s wide shoulders and toned ass.

  “A Mr. Erkins is here to see you.”

  Or not! Now faced with the opportunity, she felt much less confident and very embarrassed for her wayward thoughts.

  Sasha ignored the intercom and picked up the phone to speak in private. “I really can’t be disturbed right now. Please make an appointment with Mr. Erkins for later in the day and give him my apology for any inconvenience this may cause.” She hung up before Number Five could argue.

  She buried her face in her hands, knowing her behavior was getting her nowhere. Straightening her shoulders and calming her runaway hormones, she picked up the phone and called several textile distributers. After her immediate business needs were taken care of, she grabbed her purse and planned to once again slip away from the handsome Mr. Erkins. She’d let her secretary tell him she’d been called away on urgent business.

  “Ms. Powell, I’m so glad I chose to wait.”

  Sasha stopped in mid step. She felt the blood drain from her face as she swung her head in his direction.

  There was no mistaking the deep timbre of his voice. A flush quickly spread through her and a smile teetered on her lips until she noticed his rather large physique perched on the corner of her secretary’s desk. Secretary number five, soon to be replaced by six, had her assets showcased. A healthy dose of misplaced jealousy smacked her right upside the head, making it impossible to think her way out of the situation.

  While she stood there searching for a new lie to tell, he gently took her by the arm and led her back into her office. His touch sent a sizzle right to her core. She pulled away from him and took her place behind the mammoth desk. She sat as regally as possible and gave him her best ‘princess indulging a peasant’ look. “What can I do for you, Mr. Erkins?”

  He watched her for a few moments and she had to fight the urge to squirm under his direct gaze.

  Slowly Jacob crossed his arms and stared down at her solemnly. “So, is it bad breath or body odor that sends you running away from me every chance you get?”

  Sasha tipped her head down toward her desk, trying in vain to hide the grin spreading across her face. He just couldn’t be another plant looking to take her to jail, or worse, back to her brother. Regaining her composure, she steepled her fingers and looked him straight in the eye. “Both, of course.”

  The moment of silence ended with both of them cracking up.

  “You’re a mean woman, Misasha.”

  She certainly wasn’t ‘his’ as the term ‘mi’ implied, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about him calling her that. Her girly parts were all enamored though, standing at attention and making demands while her mind was sending up warning flags. Unfortunately, fire conquered the ice. Those flags went up in lustful flames as he reached across her desk and took her hand in his.

  “I promise, I showered and brushed my teeth just a couple of hours ago, so it should be safe enough to have lunch with me.”

  “You’re a goof!” She could hardly think with his thumb brushing the back of her hand. Had all her nerve endings migrated there in a desperate attempt for attention? “Sure, we can do lunch. Where would you like to go?” Her voice sounded odd. Not at all her own. Panic began to build as she realized she’d agreed to another date.

  “Does Roberto serve lunch? I might need his advice. He seems to have a way with women. Perhaps I could learn a few things from him.”

  Her face heated and she wished she could hide. “I may never go back there again.” Why did he have to be funny? This would be easier if he were arrogant or hard on the eyes. “How about the salad bar across the street?”

  “No way,” he answered, shaking his head. “Man does not live on rabbit food and it would be too easy for you to slip away from me again. My ego can’t take too many more events like that.”

  “I think your ego is holding up just fine.” She rose from her desk and walked out of her office with him. “How about that new sandwich place on Central Avenue?”

  “Th
ere’s a bunch of those springing up. Good idea, let’s give it a try. I’m parked over here.” He pointed to his late-model BMW.

  “I have some errands to run afterward. I’ll meet you there.”

  He stopped in place and sniffed his arm. “Nope, nothing there.” Holding his hand in front of his mouth, he audibly exhaled. “Nope, nothing offensive there either.” He clutched his heart dramatically. “You’re killing me here, Misasha. Cut me some slack. I promise to do the speed limit, stick to public roadways, refrain from texting or using my cell phone, whatever it takes.”

  “Jacob…” She cringed at her conciliatory tone. She needed to be in charge. “I don’t want you to get the wrong impression. I’m a busy woman with a business to run. I don’t usually take lunch at all. You’ve been very kind to me, helped me out of two difficult situations and you seem like a nice man, but I’m not looking for a relationship right now.” And if I spend much more time with you, I’m going to do something really stupid.

  “Good, neither am I. I’m looking for a lunch date and I have it on very good authority that you need to eat more. I’m trying to be a Good Samaritan. Now, let’s help save the planet and reduce our carbon footprint by only taking one car.”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “Does that line actually work for you?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never tried it before. What do you think would work better? I’m batting a zero here.”

  “Do you promise to ask for directions if we get lost?” Teasing him felt intimate, as if she’d made a connection with him. She didn’t feel so utterly alone in the world.

  “And give up my man card? Lady, you drive a hard bargain.” He made a point of shifting his weight and shaking his head. “Okay, if we get lost I promise to ask for directions. Now will you allow me to drive you to lunch?”

  She was crazy to get into a car with a man she barely knew. Obviously someone was on to her, otherwise the break-in made no sense. He could easily kill her and dispose of the body without anyone knowing or caring. And yet, she nodded and allowed him to lead the way. What an idiot!

  She felt better as the driveway neared and nearly sick as they drove right past it. Remaining as calm as her churning stomach would allow, she pointed to the restaurant they’d agreed to. “Um, Jacob, I think you really do need to stop for directions. We just passed it.” Her heart beat double time remembering another date gone awry.

  “I don’t like that one. I’m going to the one off Bethany.”

  She tried to take a calming breath. Okay, it wasn’t reasonable, but it might be truthful. “Why?” she asked, reserving judgment. Sasha gripped the door handle, ready to make a quick getaway if need be. She was ashamed that she wanted him to have a plausible excuse. It had nothing to do with her safety. She genuinely liked Jacob.

  “For the same reason I didn’t like the salad bar. It’s too close to your office. You’ll find some excuse and slip away from me.” He reached over and took her hand.

  Without even thinking about it, she linked her fingers with his. She looked out of the window, shielding her expression. His touch was addicting and she was desperate for more. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

  “Not likely,” he teased.

  Again, his smile sent a jolt of cosmic-powered lust straight through her. She didn’t understand that either. She’d never had a truly pleasurable sexual experience. Why would she think it would be any different with Jacob? She sure had more chemistry with him than any other man. Was it instant attraction or did her need for human companionship have her sitting next to a paid assassin?

  True to his word, they arrived safely at the agreed upon restaurant, just not the location she’d had in mind.

  Sasha figured the best defense was a good offense. After giving their orders, she decided to jump right in. “So, Jacob, at the gala you said you owned your own business.”

  He nodded. “I do computer systems analysis.”

  Sasha wrinkled her nose like he had a disease. “I never would have pegged you for a computer geek.”

  “Thank you. I think. How did you get started with interior decorating?”

  She had many pat answers, yet for some reason none of them came to mind. So much of her life was a farce that she felt more like an actress on a stage than a real person. What harm was there in giving a small glimpse of the real her? “I think geometrically. Shapes, colors, textures just form patterns in my brain. Apparently that’s different than most people.” Turning on her high wattage smile, she emotionally stepped back a bit, feeling as if revealing even that small piece of herself had been too much. She tipped her head downward, allowing her hair to partially shield her face. “Or so I believe. Having only had access to this one brain—I could be wrong.”

  “Then I’ll be kind and never invite you to my apartment. The chaos of it all might overload your sensory receptors.” Jacob reached out and brushed her bangs away from her eyes.

  She leaned her head into his touch. “A challenge! I love it.” He’d looked at home in both jeans and formal wear. At the gala she’d watched him often, yet she’d never caught him fussing with his attire. She wondered what his home really looked like. “I also think you underestimate your style.” She smiled again, amazed that she was enjoying herself. Bantering with him gave her a giddy feeling. “Unless someone dresses you each day.”

  “Are you applying for the job?” His voice was low and speculative.

  “Could be. I’m in a ruffles and bows phase right now. Do you think that would work for you?” She shook, trying to keep her giggles silent.

  “You are definitely a mean woman, Misasha.” He shook his head. “The ruffles are out.” He paused as a devilish expression crossed his face. “But the bows I may be able to work with. Bows remind me of presents. Presents are unwrapped and are then a source of pleasure. So if you promise to unwrap me each evening, I might be persuaded to wear a bow—somewhere inconspicuous.”

  She felt her face redden. “I suppose I deserved that one,” she admitted. The thought of seeing him naked sent her blood pressure spiking in her erogenous zones. Changing the subject seemed like a great idea, and work was the only thing that quickly came to mind. “What exactly does a computer systems analyst do?”

  “I design software for both corporate and government applications,” he answered simply then took a bite of his sandwich.

  “Are we talking accounting spreadsheets or firewall protection?” Her heart started to beat a little faster. Learning about computer systems might help her get the edge over her brother.

  “If it involves a hard drive, I can write a program for it. Are you looking for something specific for your company?” He sounded truly curious.

  “I know very little about technology. I’m more of a paper and pencil girl.” She twisted her earring nervously. If he helped her learn about computers it would mean a great deal of alone time with Jacob. Sasha was finding it hard to remember why that might be a bad thing.

  “You have a website. I checked it out after the gala.”

  “You checked me out? How forward of you!” Her eyes widened in mock irritation. For the first time in longer than she could remember, she tried using a flirty voice.

  Jacob chuckled. “I’d be willing to offer you my services.” He flashed her an endearing smile where only the right side of his mouth quirked upward, as if he were trying to remain serious, but just couldn’t.

  “What sort of services do you think I need, Jacob?” Her voice was purposefully soft and sexy. She knew better than to be so forward.

  “I’d be willing to protect your hard drive from unwanted penetration.” He winked at her.

  “Mr. Erkins, do you really believe my hard drive is easily penetrated?” she enquired with a feigned haughty tone she’d perfected years ago.

  Jacob’s eyebrows rose and a slightly amused expression danced across his handsome face. “Not likely, Ms. Powell. Not likely, but I’m willing to offer my protection, just in case.”

  “
Before you could properly protect my ‘assets’, wouldn’t I have to give you access to them?” Bantering with him was fun and it gave her a naughty thrill. Pathetic, really. Yet on a different level entirely, the wheels were turning. Could Jacob be the key to ending this nightmare once and for all? If he taught her how computers were compromised, then maybe she could get some hard evidence on her brother.

  “I promise to be discreet and keep your best interests as my first priority.”

  His voice caressed her senses and caused dangerous stirrings. When had she become such a flirt? Every time she tried to trust someone it ended in disaster. Was she a hopeless romantic or a fool? “What about download speeds? I’ve been told I’m a bit slow in that department.”

  “One thing our businesses have in common is a need to see to every detail. Perhaps the problem isn’t with your speed, it‘s with other people’s perception of your needs.”

  “And you know about my needs?” She seemed hyper tuned to his every move. Each time his lips parted to take a bite, she imagined them sliding down her neck, surrounding her nipple. Pulling it deeply into his mouth. She quickly took a drink of a water. Something, anything, to break the spell. This was turning dangerous. His striking blue eyes held her captive. Her erogenous zones were sending up flares, demanding attention. She needed some relief and soon. Did she dare?

  “If given the opportunity, I would be intimately aware of your needs and take great pleasure in seeing to each and every one.” He slid a finger down her cheek.

  Her heart skipped a beat. Time to back up and take a reality check, otherwise she was going to jump over the table and start ripping off his clothes. Sitting up straighter, she forced her brain to function. “To become an expert in penetration protection, I imagine you must have in-depth experience in smooth-talking your way around a girl’s firewalls.”

  He sat farther back in the booth, as if he’d sensed the change in her. “I admit I’ve had extensive experience hacking into computers. If you’re asking me about other experiences I’ve had, I’d have difficulty answering that. After spending an afternoon in your company, I’m having trouble remembering anything before our misadventure in the desert.”

 

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