Seized by Seduction--A Compelling Tale of Romance, Love and Intrigue

by Brenda Jackson

  She jerked her gaze to him, and he saw surprise in her eyes. “Quasar?”

  Putting the safety on his weapon and tucking the gun in the back waistband of his jeans, he walked over to her. “I came to help, but it appears you took care of business on your own.”

  She shook her head as if she needed to clear it. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ll explain things in a second,” he said, pulling her into his arms, needing to touch her, feel her to make sure she was alright. “You okay?”

  She pulled back and looked up at him. “Yes. He tried to kill me, Quasar.”

  They heard a groan and saw the man had come to and was struggling hard to get to his feet. When he saw Randi, he snarled and called her a bitch. In the blink of an eye, Quasar had crossed the room and used his fist to knock the man out again.

  Glancing around the room, Quasar saw it was in shambles. His gaze snagged on the bullet hole in the bedcovers and the gun with the silencer on the floor next to the nightstand. A Beretta. Striker’s gun of choice. Had Randi been in that bed and taken a hit, she would not have survived. Quasar had to fight back his rage so he wouldn’t douse the attacker with water to bring him around again, just to dislocate the other shoulder.

  He went back to Randi. “Do you know who he is?”

  “No. I need to call Agent Riviera,” she said, picking up her cell phone off the floor. “And you need to tell me how you got here, Quasar. How did you know I was in danger?”

  “I heard the noise coming from this room.”

  Randi gave him a bemused look. “How? You walked me to my hotel room hours ago. Why are you still at the hotel?”

  “I never left,” he said, snatching the electric cord from a broken lamp on the floor to bind the man’s hands behind his back, not caring about the dislocated shoulder. He was tempted to break the bastard’s damn arm, as well.

  Randi tapped her phone screen. “What do you mean, you never left?”

  Before he could answer, Agent Riviera must have come on the line. Randi lifted a just-a-minute finger to Quasar. “Agent Riviera, this is Dr. Fuller. You need to come to my hotel as soon as possible. Someone just tried to kill me.”

  No sooner had she clicked off the phone than a man rushed into her hotel room. In an instant, Quasar was on his feet with his Glock drawn.

  The man threw up his hands. “What’s going on here?” the man asked, seeing the gun aimed at him. “I’m Victor Pierson, head of hotel security. We received several calls that a lot of commotion was coming from this room.”

  Quasar lowered the gun and tucked it back inside the waistband of his jeans. “Someone broke into this room and tried to kill Dr. Fuller. The authorities are on their way.”

  * * *

  AGENT RIVIERA STOOD in front of the man handcuffed to the chair. “You might as well make it easy on yourself and tell us who hired you to kill Dr. Fuller.”

  The man, who looked like he’d gotten beaten by several men when most of his injuries had come from a single woman, snarled from a bruised lip, “I need medical attention. My shoulder is dislocated. I came into this room by mistake, and that woman jumped me.”

  From his position leaning against the wall, still barefoot and shirtless, Quasar couldn’t help rolling his eyes. Seriously? Was that the story he was going with? The man was beyond stupid if he thought someone would fall for that lie. Especially when it was obvious there’d been forced entry into the hotel room and there was a gun with his fingerprints all over it. Thinking it would be a quick and easy kill, the asshole hadn’t bothered to wear gloves. Quasar bet the bastard hadn’t counted on the likes of a woman like Randi kicking his ass. And she had definitely kicked it. He’d seen that kick she’d planted in the man’s groin. Probably damaged him there for life. Paramedics had been called for his dislocated shoulder but hadn’t arrived yet.

  Deciding he’d heard enough and wanted to check on Randi, Quasar left the bedroom for the living room area, where Randi was giving a statement to a police detective. The technicians were there, dusting for fingerprints and collecting other evidence. Quasar stepped aside when paramedics burst through the door, wheeling in a stretcher.

  Quasar sat down on the sofa. The police officers had given Randi time to change out of her pajamas and into a multicolored caftan. To anyone else she must have looked cool, unflappable and pretty damn composed, considering what she’d been through. But he had a feeling she was anything but those things. He could imagine what she felt, knowing a man had been sent to kill her and would have done so if she hadn’t taken steps to protect herself.

  He glanced over at the two detectives and saw them watching him. He figured they would want to know the same thing Agent Riviera had asked him. Why did he have a gun?

  “Now, Mr. Patterson, we need to ask you a few questions.”

  Without saying anything, not even giving a nod that he’d heard what they’d said, he moved to switch places with Randi. The questions started off routine. No problem. He’d given statements before. And through all the questioning, he could feel Randi’s eyes on him.

  “So what brought you to LA? And do you normally travel with a gun?” the detective asked him.

  “It’s a beautiful city, and I wanted to feel safe.” He knew he was being a smart-ass, but at the moment he didn’t care. He hadn’t liked the detective’s attitude when he’d been questioning Randi and had pegged the guy to be a first-class jerk. More than once his line of questioning ridiculed her reason for being in Los Angeles. It was obvious the man didn’t believe in or respect Randi’s psychic abilities. “And since I know you’re going to ask,” Quasar decided to add, “I am licensed to carry a firearm in all fifty states due to the nature of my work. I’ve provided Agent Riviera with all the necessary paperwork.”

  “And you know Dr. Fuller?”

  He looked at Randi, who held his gaze. “Yes, I know her.”

  “How?”

  He returned his focus to the detective and was about to tell him that it really wasn’t any of his damn business. However, he figured the man was just doing his job. “We met a few months ago, during another case she was assisting the FBI and law enforcement on.” He and Randi hadn’t really officially met then, but he wouldn’t tell that to this jerk.

  “And what about the attacker?”

  “What about him?”

  “Do you know him, as well?”

  Quasar immediately got angry at that question. “No, I don’t know the bastard. Am I giving a statement or are you interrogating me, detective?”

  “I was beginning to wonder the same thing,” Agent Riviera said, entering the room. The attacker, now handcuffed and flat on his back, was being wheeled out of the hotel room. He hadn’t looked their way.

  “We’ll take things over from here, Detective. This is all part of a federal investigation.”

  The man who’d identified himself as Detective Duke Sutherland cast Riviera a slight smile, and Quasar could feel tension between the two men. “Need I remind you that we’re in this together, Agent Riviera? My department is using common sense while you’re depending on this quack and her crystal ball.”

  Quasar was out of his seat in a flash. “You’re out of damn line.” Cop or no cop, this man was about to get his ass kicked for what he’d just said about Randi. Talk about being disrespectful. Before Quasar could say anything else, Riviera crossed the room to stand in front of the man. Anyone could tell from the set of his jaw that he was angry. “And I agree with Mr. Patterson, Detective Sutherland. You are way out of line and owe Dr. Fuller an apology.”

  Detective Sutherland glanced over at Randi and, to Quasar’s way of thinking, muttered some shitty-sounding, insincere apology.

  “Now, get the hell out of here,” Riviera told him. “I’ll be talking to your superior tomorrow.”

  The detective turned to Ri
viera. “Whatever. You’re going to regret this when the shit hits the fan and those two gangs go at each other and leave this city covered in the blood of innocent lives.” And on that parting shot, Sutherland headed for the door with his partner following him out.

  Agent Riviera turned to Randi. “I’m sorry about that, Dr. Fuller.”

  Randi waved away his words. “No need to be. I’m used to skeptics.”

  Quasar didn’t say anything as he sat back down, pissed off as hell. The man wasn’t just a skeptic; he was a damn jerk whose ass needed kicking. How could Randi put up with such crap on a constant basis, people not believing in her abilities to the point that they belittled her? She had the perfect temperament, resilience and strength, and more than ever at that moment, he couldn’t help but admire those qualities in her.

  “Did my attacker tell you anything?” Randi asked Agent Riviera.

  Agent Riviera shook his head. “No, nothing. I’ve asked my men to haul in the leaders of both gangs for questioning. One of them had better tell me—”

  “It’s been revealed to me that the gangs had nothing to do with what happened here tonight,” Randi said.

  “Maybe not, but until we have proof that a third party is involved, they remain our top suspects,” Agent Riviera said in frustration.

  Randi stood, walked over to the window and looked out. She still had a lot of questions, including those about Quasar. How had he arrived in her room at just that moment? When Agent Riviera had observed Quasar packing a gun, he’d demanded to know who he was, and she’d told him the truth. Quasar was a guy she was seeing who happened to be in LA at the same time she was.

  As to why he had a gun, she could only assume that in his line of work, carrying a gun most of the time was something he did. If Agent Riviera really wanted to know, then he needed to question Quasar about it himself. Her mind was still in tatters about what had happened tonight. She could hold things together for only so long. She wanted to go somewhere and have a good cry. After tonight she deserved it.

  “Do you have any idea who was behind the assassination attempt tonight, Randi?”

  Quasar asked the question, and she turned around and noticed he was watching her intently. She saw his brown bedroom eyes were still filled with fury. Shaking her head, she said, “No, but like I said before, I know it wasn’t gang-related. That much was revealed to me through my psychic abilities. I think it’s the same individual or group that wants everyone to believe what happened to Esther Emiliano was gang-related, as well.”

  “That means someone is going to a lot of trouble to make it seem that way.”

  What Quasar said was true. Someone was going to a lot of trouble. They had killed once and had tried again tonight. They were not going to like that their person had failed. Would they try again? Would whoever was responsible be afraid she could nail him or her with the use of her psychic powers?

  “I’m assigning around-the-clock protection for you, Dr. Fuller,” Agent Riviera said. “That also means a safe house.”

  Randi frowned. “Granted, I know I can’t stay here tonight, but do you think a safe house is necessary?”

  A scowl touched Agent Riviera’s features. “Did you not see that bullet hole in your bedspread, Dr. Fuller?”

  Randi closed her eyes for a moment and drew in a deep breath as she relived parts of tonight. When she opened them, she saw Quasar and Agent Riviera staring at her closely. “Yes, I saw the bullet hole. If you recall, I was there when it was made. Someone wants me dead. I got that. But I came here to do a job, regardless. If anything, I’m even more determined to go to the crime scene in the morning.”

  She paused a moment and knew she would probably get some resistance from Agent Riviera with her next request. “And there’s something else I want you to arrange for me tomorrow.”

  Agent Riviera lifted a brow. “What?”

  “I want to meet with both gang leaders on their turf.”

  First, Agent Riviera looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. Then he began shaking his head. “That’s too risky, Dr. Fuller. We aren’t talking about choirboys gone bad. We’re talking about thugs of the worst kind.”

  “I understand that, but I need to talk to them. It’s essential that I do, and you’re just going to have to trust me on this.”

  Agent Riviera rubbed the back of his neck. She would not compromise on this. He must have seen that in her face. “Fine. I’m bringing them in for questioning tonight anyway, regarding what happened here. Although I know you believe they aren’t involved, I have to follow procedure, and right now they’re my main suspects.”

  He paused a minute before continuing. “I will come up with a reason to hold them to give you time to meet with—”

  “I prefer it be on their turf.”

  Agent Riviera shook his head. “That’s not possible. It’s too dangerous.”

  Randi gave him a stubborn look. “Doesn’t matter.”

  When Riviera was about to say something, she held up her hand to cut him off. “It has to be done, Agent Riviera. Not only to stop all the bloodshed but also finally to bring peace between these two gangs.”

  Riviera looked stunned that she could even think such a thing. “Peace? There will never be peace between the Warlords and the Revengers.”

  “How do you know?” she countered. “Has anyone ever tried? Or has the only thing the authorities tried doing is containing them? Keeping them in line.”

  “We are talking about criminals.”

  Quasar sat listening to the intense conversation between Randi and Special Agent Riviera. As far as he was concerned, what happened tonight had been a game changer. Although she’d handled her attacker damn admirably on her own tonight, she should not have had to do so. He refused to let her stay in this city unprotected. What if there had been more than one attacker with guns? Even with her skill in karate, she would be dead. The thought of that had pain erupting inside him like needles piercing his skin.

  He did agree with Agent Riviera about the danger of meeting with the gangs on their turf. But he didn’t agree with the federal agent regarding gangs not being able to make peace.

  “It’s happened before,” Quasar interrupted the conversation. When both Riviera and Randi turned to him, he continued. “Gangs can make peace. It was done right here in LA close to twenty-five years ago. The Crips and the Bloods became a united front in what was the first peace treaty between gangs in any city’s history.”

  Riviera rubbed his hands down his face. “Look, Mr. Patterson, you’re talking about over twenty years ago. I’m talking about the present. Maybe back then some percentage of gang members were rational, but not now. They thrive on violence and hate and barely have respect for each other, much less for anyone else.”

  Quasar watched as Randi’s lips, the same ones he loved to kiss, formed a mutinous pout. “I’m sure this city has some sort of gang intervention organization, Agent Riviera.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Solicit their help. They will be needed after I talk to the leaders of the gangs.”

  Quasar couldn’t wait to hear what the FBI agent’s response would be. He was finding all this very interesting. Especially how passionate Randi was about her work. And where had that stubborn streak come from?

  “I will have to take your request to meet with the gang leaders to my superior, Dr. Fuller.”

  “Fine, and make sure you underscore that when I meet with the gang leaders, I prefer it to be on their turf.”

  Quasar watched as the agent gave Randi a smile he bet the man wasn’t really feeling. “Is there a reason you prefer it to be on their turf?”

  “Yes. I need to feel the vibes of everyone in the gang. Someone, and I believe more than one, has defected and is working with a third party who’s trying to overthrow both gangs. Like I said, you’re going to have
to trust me on this.”

  Agent Riviera didn’t say anything, but he did trust her. Hadn’t Special Agent Felton admitted the biggest mistake he’d made in his forty-year career with the Bureau was not believing the full extent of Dr. Fuller’s psychic abilities? Riviera didn’t intend to make the same mistake.

  “Okay. I’ll leave you to pack,” Riviera said. “My men will be stationed at the door until you finish. I’m taking you to the safe house and—”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Quasar said, standing. “From here on out, I’ll be the one responsible for Dr. Fuller’s well-being. Officially, starting now, I’m her bodyguard, and I’ll be the one protecting her.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  QUASAR KEPT HIS EYES on the road, although he was tempted to glance over at Randi. For the second time that night, they were riding through the streets of Los Angeles. She was quiet, and her eyes were closed. He hoped she was getting some sleep and figured she had to be exhausted, both mentally and physically.

  Randi hadn’t as much as put up an argument when Quasar stated to Agent Riviera that he would be her protector, placing her solely under his care. He’d known she’d had misgivings about going to a safe house. When Quasar said he might have an alternative, the FBI agent hadn’t liked the idea, but it had been Randi’s call to make.

  When Quasar had gone to his room to pack, he had taken the time to call Roland to brief him on what had happened tonight. Roland, who’d met Randi when she’d worked the Erickson case in Charlottesville a few months ago, was outraged.

  Roland felt Quasar was doing the right thing by stepping up as Randi’s bodyguard and said Quasar should let him know if he needed backup. Roland had a security team ready to catch a flight to LA to lend a hand if needed.