Lethal Seduction: A CIA Romantic Suspense (CIA Agents Book 1)

by Roxy Sinclaire

  The player in me had been in hibernation, my cases taking precedence over my cock. Yvette had woken the sleeping beast in me and I felt refreshed.

  When I sat down at my desk this time and looked at the mess of papers on my desk, words seemed to pop out at me and connect.

  Chapter 3

  Yvette

  When he touched me, he had set me on fire. In Dylan Hanson’s office I felt like a lit match in a gas tank. His fingers on me were electrifying. I had been drenched and undone by him. It wasn’t supposed to go that way. In my mind, I was supposed walk through the doors in a power suit, dazzle them with my “educated” words, and then let my brilliance shine. I imagined that it would be like a television drama where there was one screw up, but the new hire always came up with some unconventional idea that saved the case and the firm and surprised them all. No such luck for me. I felt like the “little engine that could” chugging along the path of utter frustration. I couldn’t quit. I had worked entirely too long and too hard for this to fail now. There had been too many slammed doors and my survival depended on this position at Hanson. There was no turning back. I hadn’t made it to the twentieth floor to turn back now. The experience of working for such a prestigious company, even if I only lasted one year, had the potential for a stratospheric launch into even more prominent positions.

  When I walked through the revolving door, the security guard looked up at me and quickly turned away like I was Medusa and would turn him to stone with a single glance.

  Dylan had everyone scared of him, but he was playful with me. He had smiled and touched me as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It intrigued me that the same man that so many people feared, kissed me with so much passion that I’d nearly fallen apart in his arms. Part of me was disappointed that the special attention that I’d received wasn’t directed at my brain, but another part of me was giddy at the thought that the hard hearted lawyer wanted me.

  “You’re back.” James’ mouth moved under wide questioning eyes.

  The bullpen of other associates craned their necks over their cubicles and a smattering of low mutterings became audible for a second. That was it for the greetings.

  “Good morning to you all too.” I said with a smile, as though it really mattered and any of the people would actually unglue their eyes from their screens long enough to acknowledge me.

  I followed James to his cubicle.

  “I did some research on regulatory procedures and I wanted—”

  James pushed a hand up to my face in a gesture to shush me.

  “That wasn’t necessary.” he said, dropping an arm full of papers on me. “Copy, collate, folder, and file those.”

  James sat down at his desk and began to type without any further interest or instruction.

  Day two would be another day of endless secretarial duties. After locating the copier, waiting for the copier, deciphering how to work the copier, and lugging all of the copies to my work area, I was beyond tired and frustrated. Once I had the tower of paperwork neatly positioned on my desk, I plopped down into my chair and let out a whoosh of air. There were still several hours left in the day and completing my assigned duties would only serve to speed up the opportunity for additional secretarial duties. I decided that I would take my time. My fellow bullpen associates had remained decidedly quiet and unkind throughout the day.

  I sighed as I rubbed and tugged gently on my earlobe and let my mind wander where it wanted. Images of Dylan and the feelings of his hands against me, rose in my mind and I began to heat up from the inside.

  “That paperwork needs to be done ASAP.” James popped up from seemingly nowhere and startled me.

  “Sure.” I respond. “I just don’t know where the folders are, or what to do—”

  James had stopped listening to me and moved back to his cubicle.

  I want to call him an asshole and shake the wiry man until his stupid glasses fell off of his face.

  I stomp through the hall and search for supply closets. No one seemed interested in assisting me. Eye contact was painfully avoided and if I made any movement toward asking a question, the person would busy themselves.

  I made a left turn and stumbled upon a group of secretaries who found phone calls to make as I passed. I twisted my face into a mean glare at one of the older women who accidently caught my eye. I wanted to call her a witch for ignoring me, but just glared instead. It didn’t make sense to me that everyone was so perpetually rude and unfriendly. I opened three doors that looked like they could be offices, making sure to knock first. I didn’t want a repeat of what happened with Dylan. I didn’t want to wander in on another private scene. Instead of an office supply closet, I found the janitor supplies, the air conditioning unit, and the network mainframe. No folders. No staples. No paperclips.

  There was a door at the end of a hidden hall and when I opened it and there was a set of stairs. I walked up them, slowly, like walking into an attic. At the top of the stairs I found an entirely different floor similar to the floor below it. Crisp and clean. New. Modernly decorated. There was a hallway, an empty secretary desk, and two office doors. The place was empty though. It looked completely deserted, so I moved back down the stairs and returned back to the floor where I had started.

  Before I turned the knob to exit, I heard voices. Being nosy, I quietly stepped up the stairs to get a view of the elder Hanson, Pete, speaking to Sophia, Dylan Hanson’s girlfriend. A twang of guilt shot through me. There I was spying on the woman after I had successfully let her boyfriend finger fuck me against the wall.

  Their words were hushed and I couldn’t hear a thing. I saw Sophia’s too wide grin as she placed a hand against Pete’s back and slid it along the edge. She was dressed in a too short dress and too high heels, completely out of place in the conservative office.

  Pete Hanson looked at ease with the touchy woman. His arm lifted across his belly as he chuckled at something Sophia said softly against his face.

  Sophia pushed her chest closer to Mr. Hanson as she touched her cheek and batted her eyes.

  The hand that Mr. Hanson shoved through his hair was smooth and confident. He nodded to her as if answering a question.

  The two moved closer to the stairwell where I was, so I hid myself back down as quickly and as quietly as possible.

  To be discreet, I slipped into the janitor supply closet. Just in case they were coming down the stairs, I didn’t want them to notice me in the empty hall. The supply closet was large enough for a group of people, plus the varying shelves of cleaning products. The lingering smell of ammonia tickled my nose.

  I stilled in the closet, as I heard the newly discovered stairwell door shut and loud laughter erupt.

  “I can do that for you.” Mr. Hanson spoke. He was near the janitor supply room door as his voice boomed.

  “Thank you Pete. You are a lifesaver.” Sophia said to the company leader as though he had developed a solution for famine.

  Their voices trailed away after that.

  Once I was sure that it was safe I carefully exited the closet. No folders. No staples. Just curiosity and a tad bit of guilt.

  The day ended without me ever seeing Dylan, but I was able to find the supplies I needed on the opposite side of the building to complete the brainless tasks assigned to me. There were no “goodbyes” or “see you laters” when I walked away from the office. Just people leaving as though they hadn’t worked together yesterday and wouldn’t see each other tomorrow.

  The week continued on in the same manner as day one and two. Everyone concerned only with what they were doing. There was no idle chatter in the halls, greetings, or birthday celebrations like at my last job. Everything was serious and efficient. Some of the employees in other areas of the multi-department firm were friendly, but on the twentieth floor, if you weren’t already a part of the “in” crowd then you were left out. I didn’t know if I could continue to work in that way: in isolation. It felt like college all over again. I had hoped that o
nce I was working in the real world, people would be less petty.

  I sighed and stapled, folded and stuffed, coordinated and filed what seemed like an endless stream of paperwork for random cases, nothing that the bullpen was working on, until Pete Hanson himself shadowed my cubicle.

  “Uh. Good afternoon Mr. Hanson.” I stammered.

  Pete Hanson was a formidable figure in the law industry. His icy blue eyes were still, as I swiveled in my chair to face him.

  “How can I help you, sir?” I asked hastily, tripping up as I rose out of my chair to stand in his presence.

  His large hands were clasped together in front of him and his face was unreadable as he studied me from head to toe in silence.

  “You should come with me.” he said. His voice was authoritative and large seemingly without effort.

  The continuous clicking of computer keyboard keys ceased as members of the bullpen stood at the sound of Pete.

  I searched the area looking at the others then placed my nearly trembling pointer finger at my chest.

  “Me?” I questioned with a gulp. “You want me to come with you?” Pete winked but didn’t answer.

  “Should I bring my things?” I asked in a trembling voice.

  He turned and started walking away.

  I have to learn not to question people around here.

  In a single motion I grabbed my purse, and followed behind the senior Hanson without further question.

  He led me around the bullpen and I felt their glares boring a hole into my back as we made our way away from them. Hanson led me past the coven of witches, otherwise known as secretaries, and to the door that I had entered by accident earlier in the week.

  Once we were safe on his floor, he led me to an empty desk.

  “I want you to come and work for me, in this office.” he said flashing a self-assured smile my way. A smile that assumed that I would say yes and be pleased with his gesture. And I was, but I was also confused by it.

  Why did the founder of the company suddenly have an interest in me when all I had done was secretarial duties? I almost asked him. The thought that Dylan could have told his father about our rendezvous startled me and I thought about all the possibilities: maybe he didn’t like me, but couldn’t fire me because he didn’t want a lawsuit. Dylan had been missing in action all week. He hadn’t contacted me once. While it was true, I hadn’t given him my phone number, he had access to it. Whoever was my boss, whatever happened with Dylan Hanson was over. He had made that perfectly clear.

  I decided to take the offer as a sign that things were going to get better.

  “All right.” I smiled. “I would be glad to.”

  Chapter 4

  Dylan

  The computer screen offered nothing. I flipped through the pages in the manila stack of folders again. Nothing stood out. I had received a settlement offer from the Menory Medical Company for the full amount asked. We hadn’t even gone to court or pressed hard. A lawyer other than myself would have been excited for the surrender, but the whole situation stank to me. There was no way that the billion-dollar company, with leagues of lawyers at their fingertips, was ready to give up a good chunk of their billions without a fight. This shit didn’t make any sense whatsoever. Menory was hiding something, most likely their guilt for something else. I knew that whatever I had stumbled across with this case, must be affecting something else. I just didn’t know what. I had been looking at the case for too long. Three weeks too long exactly.

  I had buried myself in my work. I couldn’t even go into the office, my office, because the only thing that I could focus on in that office was the new girl, Yvette.

  I smiled at the thought of her.

  Over the last few weeks I had imagined her bent over my desk, up against the wall, and straddling me in my chair. As soon as the case is over I plan on taking her to a law conference in Jamaica for training. The thought of her naked and below me while we get to know each other made my dick hard. Damn. I had to stay focused. Yvette was the reason that I had steered clear of the office lately, deciding to work from home and funnel information through James and my father. There was no way that I could look at her and not want to fuck her. Even without seeing her I was ready to lay her down. An urgency to figure out the problem with this case and rectify it gnawed at me.

  I jumped up from the desk that I had only just returned to today, and rushed to my father’s office on the twenty-first floor. I knew that he would have some answers. This shit needed to be handled and quickly. I needed to handle Yvette so I could quit handling my own dick.

  I walked up the stairs and into the open area of the floor. Norma, my father’s secretary, was plopped at her desk. She was old and fat and not cute. She was often sick and missing work. I never knew why my father kept her around.

  “Afternoon, Norma.” I smiled at the woman who was stapling papers to the rhythm of the Elvis song that drifted from the small speaker next to her computer.

  “Mini Mr. Hanson.” she delighted.

  I frowned at the nickname that the older woman refused to let go of. When I started working with my father ten years ago, it was sort of a compliment. Back then, my father was everything that I wanted to be. Unflappable in the court room. Composed with colleagues. Tastefully charming with women. Back then, he was my hero. Now, he was my counterpart. I had surpassed him for the last five years in billable hours, cases won and settled, and revenue earned. It was my father’s brilliance that had built the company, but it had been my keen acumen for the law that had kept this company going.

  “Dylan is fine.” I responded to the woman’s bobbing head. She enjoyed the music and worked in a rhythm as though I hadn’t said a word. To her I will always be Mini Hanson, and that bothered me.

  I entered my father’s office dismissing Norma. I had come to my father’s floor on a mission.

  The lighthearted laugh that wafted out of the room quickened my pace. The sound was beautiful, like an aria in a symphony. The sound was from Yvette.

  “You are hilarious Mr. Hanson.” I heard her say through a chuckle.

  “Call me Pete.” he responded in that smarmy voice. The one he used when he was appealing to the opposite sex, not employees.

  He had made her laugh and that pissed me off.

  “This is very easy … Pete.” she replied lightheartedly.

  I stepped through the door with the settlement offer in hand and startled the two. Well I startled Yvette at least.

  Yvette’s eyes widened comically. She didn’t say a word, just looked at me.

  “Dylan.” my father shouted jovially.

  He was leaning over Yvette, hovering his body above hers closely like they were extremely familiar, as though she were a friend. That made fire rise in my belly.

  “What’s going on here?” I asked, while assuming a nonchalant demeanor. Yvette had gotten under my skin, but damn if I would let the two of them know just how much.

  “Yvette was just showing me how to use the calendar on my computer and sync it to my phone and tablet.” my father gushed. “Did you know about this?” he asked.

  “My calendars have been synced for years.” I spat. “Why didn’t you have Norma do that for you?”

  They both looked me, like I had asked “Why hadn’t Norma taught him to spin gold”.

  Norma hadn’t changed her hairstyle in the last forty years, of course she didn’t know much about computers. My father’s sophisticated schedule was most often kept by his real assistant, the one that my father didn’t want my mother to know about. Norma was only a cover. He always had a real, yet always rotating, assistant who really did the heavy lifting.

  My father chuckled at my question and placed his hand on Yvette’s shoulder.

  “It’s easy for Yvette. She’s a wiz with the computer.”

  Yvette beamed at his compliment and continued typing.

  “Thanks, Mr. H—I mean, Pete.” she corrected her own thank you. “Thanks Pete.”

  My father smiled back
at her and the gleam in his eye made my jaw clench.

  “Why aren’t you down stairs with James?” I questioned Yvette.

  She shot me a laser-like glare as she answered, “James didn’t see my full potential.” she said sweetly. “He didn’t acknowledge my talents. Not like Pete.” she continued in that sappy voice and fluttered her lashes at me innocently.

  My father stood protectively from his hovering position and moved away from his desk.

  “Don’t be angry with Yvette.” my father smoothed as he walked my way. “You have so many associates, and there wasn’t really much for her to do.” His eyes narrowed as he crossed his hands in front of him, like he did in his closing statements, like he did when he was about to slam dunk a case. “Since you weren’t around to look out for her, I thought I would personally show her the ropes.”

  “I’m here now.” I countered, closing the distance between my father and I. “I can show her everything that she needs to know.”

  A tense silence fell over the room as a staring match ensued.

  My father was the first to flinch.

  “Dylan.” he smirked. “Pish Posh. Yvette’s already moved all of her things to the office next to mine.”

  He clapped his hand against my back guiding me out of his office.

  “You’ve taken on so many new cases. So many new associates. Let me take care of Gumdrop.” he said with a persistent smile.

  “Gumdrop?” I bit out.

  Yvette chuckled and walked to the door where we stood.

  “Yep. The best, and only kind of candy that I eat.” She smiled up at my father like he was some kind of damn creative genius.

  The smirk on her face made me think that she knew that their closeness was annoying the shit out of me.

  She pushed her fuckable lips together and that sassy look on her face only served to warm my dick.

  “Whatever.” I mumbled.

  I reigned in a sneer and decided that I would figure out what the hell was going on with the Menory case on my own.