Ticket to Temptation

by Lilith Darville

  “Simone, good to see you.”

  “Welcome back, honey. The usual?”

  “Sure.” Daniel and Simone looked at me expectantly. I cleared my throat and squeaked out, “Could I see a menu please?”

  “Sure, honey.” She plopped one down in front of me. “Here you go. Let me know when you’re ready to order.”

  Daniel smoothed down a lock of my hair. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine, why?” Yes, indeed, I was going to play the fine game. I kept my nose buried in the menu.

  “Huh,” Daniel said. “You sure don’t sound like it.”

  And what the hell does fine sound like? Scream inside, control outside. “So, you seem to know these, um, women rather well. Have they been friends long?” Have you gone to bed with them? Together! My overactive imagination followed my feet down the Yellow Brick Road to meet the green-eyed gremlin.

  I could feel Daniel’s eyes burning through my rather flimsy shield of indignation. “I don’t know if you’d call them friends so much as bar buddies.”

  That was informative. Normally, just about everything on the menu would have fascinated me, but I had trouble concentrating on it. I knew I had no right to be jealous, but the image of Daniel laying hands on Simone’s fabulous breasts or Carlotta’s perfectly formed ass made me want to throw up.

  “You ready to order, sugar?”

  “What?” I’d done it again. Drifted off toward Never Never Land. This had to stop.

  “Are you ready to order?” She emphasized each word, just a little, but enough to notice.

  I let my eyes drop to the menu and ordered the first thing I saw. “I’ll have the first three Bruschette and a glass of Nobile di Montepulciano.

  “Coming right up with one burger and Stella.” Simone picked up my menus and made her way back to the open kitchen where wood crackled and hissed in a wood-fired pizza oven.

  I looked around while my heart did battle with that crazy little green gremlin. The place simply oozed dark undertones of secrecy and passion. Huge cast iron chandeliers adorned with large candles shed soft light in the afternoon gloom. Lots of distressed wood decorated the walls. Drapes and doors covered hidden alcoves just waiting for secret passion, especially the gossamer curtained entrance to the upstairs loft.

  “Great place, isn’t it? I love that the servers are as sizzling and exotic as the wood stone oven.”

  “Is that a euphemism for big breasts?” I did try to use my most polite voice.

  Seconds passed, and even I couldn’t ignore the glare of Daniel’s gaze boring into the side of my face. I pulled on my big girl panties and turned to face him.

  “Now, that was beneath you. Are you going to tell me what’s eating you?”

  “Have you slept with all of these women?” Wait a blurt it out, Logan.

  Those penetrating blue eyes continued to search my face, but Daniel smiled as if he were delighted. He stroked my chin with his thumb and forefinger before brushing a kiss over my lips, lingering just long enough to start my juices flowing.

  “And if I did, would this turn into some hand-off-my-man cat fight?” He was flat out grinning now, and I was mortified. That, however, didn’t stop me.

  “So, you did sleep with them. All three of them?”

  Daniel rocked back in his chair and howled. There was no other way to describe the fullness and richness of his laughter. Simone picked that moment to serve our food.

  “What’s so funny, hon?”

  Don’t say it.

  “Logan thinks I’ve done the good deed with not one, not two, but all three of you.” He went off in another gale of laughter.

  “Together?” Simone looked mortified.

  “I don’t know, probably.” He looked at me, amusement oozing from every pore. “Was it a foursome, Butterfly?”

  Simone slapped the air near his head. “Stop that, Daniel. You’re embarrassing the poor thing. Honey, he’s never brought a woman in here before, so we figure he’s boffing you.”

  I totally blushed crimson. She smiled at me and placed her hand over mine. “He’s a nice guy, and we all really like him. We’re kind of protective of him, kind of like a brother, so don’t you go breaking his heart, or you’ll have us to answer to.”

  Daniel had that “oh shucks, ma’am” look that was just so cute. “You’re the best, Simone.”

  “There, feel better? Do I need to worry about you flattening any woman who comes near me?”

  “No. Well, not yet, anyway.”

  I couldn’t believe those words came out of my mouth. As far as I was concerned jealousy was a mortal sin and one that I was above. Until now. If the grin on Daniel’s face was any indication, he was pleased as punch at my unsheathing my claws.

  “That’s my Logan. Now eat your food.”

  We’d just settled back to finish our drinks when my cell rang.

  “Don’t answer it,” Daniel said, but I’d already clicked it on.

  “Hello, Greg.”

  “Get your ass home, Logan. You’ve had your little joke. Now it’s time to get back to the real world.”

  “I agree we have to talk. I’ll meet you at that little bar across from your office at four o’clock tomorrow.”

  Daniel shook his head vigorously, mouthing “No.”

  Chapter 22

  Daniel

  My heart sank through the floor right down to the center of the earth when Logan agreed to meet Greg the following afternoon. I pounced the moment we got back to the loft.

  “What part of no didn’t you understand?” I could not keep the heat out of my voice. I wasn’t sure just why I was so pissed, but at the moment, I didn’t care. You’re scared, man. Damned right I was afraid—for her safety. Greg was a desperate man, and only the good Lord knew what he’d do if she didn’t comply.

  “Settle down, Daniel. I’m going to call Cliff and Jude. They’ll make sure I’m safe enough. He won’t do anything in a public place.”

  “Oh yeah? Don’t be too sure of that.” I tapped the bar and Simone poured a bourbon—straight up, leaving the bottle. My hand trembled as I tossed it back embracing the burn as it worked its way through my system. Logan came up behind me and placed her hands on my shoulders.

  “I thought you didn’t drink during the day.”

  “Yeah, well, this is a special occasion.” I poured and downed two more fingers of bourbon before pouring another and holding it out for her.

  “No thank you, but I will take a Mountain Dew on ice.” Logan sat up on a bar stool, watching me. I busied myself making the drink and slid it across to her before making eye contact. I could feel the look of belligerence frozen on my face. Logan looked away and fiddled with her hair. That cute little movement that reminded me of that first day in my office. I pushed away the fist of fear trying to worm its way into my heart.

  “Look, Daniel, I’m not sure exactly what to say, but I do know taking it out on me isn’t going to change things. What did you think anyway, that once you were in the picture, Greg would vanish? Poof?”

  She blew on her hand as if blowing away a speck of dust, then beamed those piercing eyes on me. I squirmed under her accusing gaze. She had a point. I had no right to be telling her what to do…about anything. I puffed air in my cheeks and let it out slowly.

  “You’re right, I apologize. It’s just that—”

  “No excuses.” She grinned at me. “I imagine that petulant look on your face is somewhat similar to what I had on mine when I met the dear Carlotta and Simone.”

  “I am not jealous of Greg.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Why do you want to see him anyway?”

  Her shoulders slumped just a little, and the merriment vanished from her eyes. She crossed the room and picked up her cell. “I’d better give Jude a call.”

  I watched as she explained the situation to Judy. The way she tucked her hair behind her ear, the way she crossed her legs and swung that delicate little foot… Oh hell, let’s face it, I loved every littl
e nuance that made up her unique combination of splendor.

  After a brief back and forth, Logan said, “Okay, okay. Here, let me put you on speaker.” She crossed back and slid the phone on the bar between us.

  “Daniel, you there, man?” Cliff’s bass tones vibrated through the phone.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking about this meeting?” I held my breath and prayed he supported my position.

  “The danger’s minimal. We’ll have agents in the coffee shop. You’re clear on what you need to do, right, Logan?”

  “Yes, I’ve got it.” Logan pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.

  “So how do we control this?” How do I stop her from going back to him? It didn’t seem to matter what my logical mind told me, my heartbeat sped from zero to sixty in the same four point one seconds as my Aston Martin. I gave my head a shake. Time to put aside my selfishness and focus on what mattered here.

  “Dan, I’ll tell you the rest of the plan when I see you. How about I meet up with you at your loft in a half hour?” Cliff asked.

  “I’d better get going,” Logan said.

  “No way you’re going alone. I’m going with you.”

  “But—”

  “My men will keep her under surveillance, Dan. I’m on my way to brief you on our game plan. Let’s do this.” Cliff disconnected, and the silence beat a fandango in my head. I tried with little success to replace the grimace with a smile.

  “Are you going to be okay with this?” Logan turned the spotlight of her attention on me with that look that made me feel like I was the only pink star diamond—something every woman wanted according to Justine—in existence. I wanted her to look at me like that every day of the rest of my life. I’m all yours. The thought stunned me for a moment. Did I want her to be? What I did want was Logan spread wide open for me, searing me with a gaze hot with her desire. I wanted to be the answer to Logan’s sexual curiosity. Liar.

  I raked my hand through my hair. “There go my plans for tonight.”

  Logan came around the bar and ran her hands down my back. Shivers of repressed anticipation answered the unasked question.

  “What did you have in mind?” She licked the sweet spot where the hair met my neck, and a flood of hope doused my fear. I turned and pulled her into my arms, folding into her and letting her hands soothe and reassure.

  “You’ll have to wait and see.” I bruised her lips with mine, drinking in the taste of her desire, inhaling the scent of her lust. “I’m so in like with you.” I couldn’t keep the crack out of my voice.

  She pulled back and gave me a long, measured look. “I’m so in like with you too…Master.” She cupped my cock and squeezed gently. “Keep him out of trouble.”

  She picked up her purse, and with a backward wave she disappeared through the door.

  Twenty minutes later, I buzzed Cliff in and stood waiting in the stairwell as he took the steps two at a time.

  “Let’s go, man. We haven’t got any time to lose.”

  I led him into the loft. “I’m not liking Logan meeting with Greg.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  My stomach turned as another rush of adrenaline filled me. “What if—”

  “My people are professionals. They know what to do.” He dropped a thick file on the table. “Read.”

  My attention soon switched from Cliff prowling around my place to the contents of the file. My anger became heat threading up behind my eyes. When I turned the last page, I stared at Cliff.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. This is bogus. How did you get this anyway?”

  “That’s classified, and Greg doesn’t know we have this. It gives us the ammunition we need to nail him.”

  “I don’t see how.”

  Cliff sat down opposite me. “Here’s the plan.”

  Cliff’s team had set up quite the plan, and I hoped like hell it would work. I wasn’t happy with using Logan for bait, but I was the hook, and I had no alternative if we wanted to keep her safe. All Logan had to do was give Greg access to some of the funds, making it easy for him to make the next transfer. Cliff’s team would use me to make Greg think there was some urgency for making the transfer. So why was I so uptight?

  Cliff’s cops would arrive soon. I kept busy with “make work” projects, like removing the invisible dust from every glass in the bar. Mainly, I paced and stressed about all the things that could go wrong. Yeah, like you could end up in prison for the next twenty years. We’d be lucky if all we got out of this was a harsh tongue lashing from Logan when she found out what we’d done.

  It boggled the mind that Greg thought he could get away with this money laundering scheme. The laws requiring financial institutions to report suspicious activity exempted lawyers for some strange reason, yet we were one of the gatekeepers of the financial system. So Greg had been able to funnel large amounts of money for real estate deals through offshore accounts with one tiny problem—he used my name and signature as legal counsel.

  The interminable wait came to an end with a loud hammering on the door.

  “Police. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  I open the door to three large men in uniform who made me look like a dwarf in comparison, and I wasn’t a small guy. They wore the shoulder patch embroidered with “U.S. Secret Service Uniformed Division Police” and the distinctive lapel pin that identified them as secret service. Serious shit dripped from these guys, and it took every ounce of my will not to be intimidated by them. The name tag in front of me read “O’Hare.”

  I spent the half hour drive fretting about Logan and fantasizing about tearing strips of skin from Greg’s body inch by inch for what he’d done to her. I sat hunched over, my knees damned near hitting my chin, head bent. The cramped space they called the back seat of a cruiser was not nearly as romantic as it looked in the movies. O’Hare’s vast bulk took up any modicum of space that may have given me some comfort.

  I didn’t like this part of Cliff’s plan, not one little bit. Not that I knew what I would do if it came to an altercation with Greg, but I was in better shape and would clock him one if it came to it. Sitting in the back of this car all trussed up like a Christmas goose made me wish I had one of those disgusting habits to occupy my time, like biting my nails, picking scabs, or doing my best to wrest the Jerk of the Year award away from Greg. Removing another blight from this earth.

  The boys in black drove across the Brooklyn Bridge and drew up in front of a gray concrete and glass building beside the Marriott hotel. They marched me inside, took the elevator to the thirty-second floor, and put me in a small room with a table bolted to the floor, three chairs, and a large mirror on one wall. Even a moron would be able to identify this as an interview room. O’Hare removed the cuffs, and I settled into the hard plastic chair facing the mirror. And waited.

  Minutes later, a uniformed Cliff strolled into the room and sat opposite me.

  “Where’s Logan?”

  Cliff sat back in his chair and returned my heated gaze with a steady stare telegraphing his sense of calm determination. When my blood pressure returned to an acceptable level, he leaned forward and opened the file.

  “Logan is fine. She’s with Judy. We almost had to restrain her physically to stop her from coming down here.” A smile lit his deep brown eyes. “She’s got it bad for you, buddy.”

  You think so? Really? My heart skipped a happy little beat, and I ran my fingers through my hair. Apparently, Logan hadn’t told Judy about our fuck-buddy agreement, or she’d know better. But my heart disregarded my thinking brain, and logic did not prevail. Focus, you idiot.

  “Have we made any progress?”

  “So far, so good,” he said. “My men contacted Greg, and he’s on his way to identify you.”

  “I’m still not clear on how this is going to help.”

  “When he arrives, we’re going to have him identify you. Once he does, one of my men will come in to interrogate you and take you through the file I showed yo
u. Greg will be watching with the agents in the next room. You’ll be shocked and reference him at every opportunity. It’s a long shot, but we’re hoping your comments will prompt him to make a move.”

  “He’s not that stupid.”

  Cliff laughed. “You’d be surprised how stupid people like cops and lawyers can be. They often think they know better than the rest of us.”

  “We’ll see. Greg does tend to be arrogant, so we do have that going in our favor.”

  “Okay, I’d better get out of here. Any questions?”

  “No. I just hope I don’t blow our cover.”

  “You won’t man.” Cliff took the file and left.

  I wasn’t usually a nervous Nellie, but this stuff was testing my gastrointestinal fortitude.

  After another twelve minutes—I checked my watch about every thirteen seconds—a different agent entered. The man wore intimidation like the black mask of the executioner, all six foot four inch two hundred and fifty muscular pounds of him. The guy was massive, and I’m no small guy. White heat seared through me as he assessed me with those ice-blue eyes, despite the friendly nature of his smile and handshake. This isn’t real. So why had my bowels turned to liquid acid?

  “Mr. Masterson, Agent Johnson. May I call you Daniel?”

  “That depends on what I’m calling you.” Two alpha males circling, assessing the risk. Blue locked on blue recognizing a kindred controlled and controlling spirit. Or adversary. Only time would tell.

  One long breath… Two… Three. Then with a crooked grin, he dropped his suit jacket over the back of his chair and rolled up his sleeves. “Jack will do.”

  For two solid hours, he cajoled, bargained, intimidated, and coerced every last scrap of intelligence from my skittish brain, pilfering information I hadn’t even realized I possessed. Until that moment, I had been the best at this game. My match sat opposite me, rolled up sleeves and relaxed stance combined with seemingly innocent questions that slithered around the hidden crevices of my mind, looking for a sliver of a chink in the wall that hid the secrets of my soul. But there were none for him to find because he wasn’t looking for that one and only hairline crack so newly formed. Logan. I barely dared let her mirage shimmer at the back of my mind for fear those laser beams would find her, exposing her. And my depravity.