Wicked Temptation

by Linda Verji

  "No, that was the first case you got paid for," Danny corrected. "Your first case was in sixth grade. Finding out who spitballed Mrs. Otto."

  "Ah, yes. The Case of the Mistaken Spitballer." Misha chuckled at the memory. "I told you Mathew Jillan didn't do it."

  "He might as well have. That pompous little bully was an expulsion waiting to happen." Danny squeezed her upper arm as he said, "I wonder where he is these days."

  "Our ambassador to France."

  "Oh, for the love of-. " He glared down at her. "No wonder the French can't stand us. You should've let him take the fall."

  "But then you and I wouldn't be friends if I had." Her lips quirked in a smile. "I only befriended you because you were my first suspect and I wanted to question you."

  Danny's jaw dropped and his eyes widened in shock. "Michelle Artemis Alexander."

  "Yes. My name."

  "All these years I thought we were best-friends. Now I find out it was all based on a lie." He touched his palm to his chest. "I'm crushed."

  Chuckling, she patted his arm. "Don't be so dramatic, Chump. You weren't exactly a boy-scout back then."

  His tone self-righteous, Danny said, "I'll have you know I was well on my way to becoming one."

  "Before you were kicked out-"

  "-because of you," he reminded her.

  "Lies." She shot him a glare sharp enough to prick the toughest of hides. "You know that if you hadn't tried to haunt the girls' cabin…"

  An easy camaraderie settled between them as they reminisced over the past. Within minutes Misha's memories of the nightmare faded replaced by a warm glow. Even as she and Danny traded insults, she watched him; watched the way his lips quirked into that charming smile and his blue eyes lit up when he was looking at her, the way he absent-mindedly stroked her arm as he spoke. A spark of something warm and powerful flared in her.

  Memories of their kiss intruded into her thoughts. How wonderful it'd felt to taste him again? One kiss should've been harmless, but the feelings it'd evoked didn't feel harmless at all. If she was attracted to Danny before, now it was all she could think of when he was near her.

  How it would feel to stop his flow of words by pressing her lips to his? How it would feel to let her inhibitions go and push their attraction beyond her self-imposed limits? To let him hold her as a lover would, to let him touch in places she only dreamt about, to finally be naked in his arms.

  "Will you stay with me tonight?" she suddenly cut into whatever he was saying.

  Danny appeared startled for about a second then nodded. "Yeah, sure."

  Sleeping in the same bed wasn't quite what she wanted. But it was better than nothing. She lowered herself back into the bed, turning her back to him. After switching off the bedside lamp, he eased his long hard, body alongside hers, slipped his left arm under her head and pressed his chest to her back. Misha had to stifle her small gasp at the immediate heat that soared through her at the contact.

  "You smell good," he murmured as he slid his hand down her arm to interlock their fingers.

  "That's because unlike some people, I shower before bed," she replied, trying to even out her breath so she didn't sound quite as breathless as she felt.

  "I showered," he protested, squeezing her fingers.

  "You need to get a new soap supplier," she teased, reveling in the sensation of being held by him. Despite her complaints about his hygiene-habits, she sucked in a deep breath loving the scents of perfumed soap and clean male skin that he surrounded her with. Her limbs got heavier and her spine conformed into his shape as she relaxed into his hold. She inched backwards in an unconscious need to feel more of him.

  "Baby, don't," Danny ordered gruffly, his hand falling to her hip to stop her movements, just as she felt a hard and long mass wedge between her buttocks.

  "Sorry." She immediately shifted away as a wave of embarrassment flooded her. Danny was hard. Because of her? Her breasts swelled at the thought and her lower tummy tightened at the thought.

  "Do you want me to leave?" His quiet question penetrated the uneasy silence that had settled over them.

  She considered his question for a moment. His leaving was probably the right thing to do considering her resolve to protect him from loving her. But then if he left, so would the comfort and pure physical pleasure of being in his arms. Comfort and pleasure won over her resolve. She shook head. "No. Stay."

  Danny must've taken her words to mean that she was okay with his erection too because he cuddled even closer to her and set his hand on her tummy. Holy hell. If she was relaxed before, now she was wide-awake.

  For the longest time they didn't speak. Misha stared into the darkness beyond, looking but not quite seeing. All her attention was on the man currently wrapped around her.

  She was conscious of how wildly her heart was thudding and how intensely her senses had sharpened to the point where she could feel every inch of him. He felt so heavy, so thick behind her. Her every instinct urged her to wind her hips against him, to push her leggings down and see if he'd feel as good against her naked skin. But she wasn't brave enough, so she waited to see what he'd do.

  But if she counted on Danny taking the step she was too afraid to take, she was up for disappointment. His breath fluttered against her hair as he said, "I forgot to tell you. On Friday, I contacted the security firm I use here about outfitting your place."

  "Oh," she said, even though if she was in normal fighting shape she would've protested the action. Trying hard to ignore the erection still pressed against her, she asked, "What did they say?"

  "They're supposed to check your house on Monday then give me a quote," Danny explained, not sounding the least bit disturbed by their position. "I'll pass there after work to show them around."

  "Can they do it tomorrow instead? Then I can also meet them?" she asked, touching her bare foot to his ankle. The sparse hair there tickled her instep pleasantly, so she did it again. She knew she was flirting with danger but it was an undeniably heady feeling.

  As was the sudden jump of her heart when Danny lifted her t-shirt and set his hand directly over naked stomach. But as if he didn't know what he was doing, he continued their conversation. "But it's a Sunday. I want to sleep in."

  Sunday? Sleep in? Misha struggled to sort through her jumbled thoughts as the rest of her senses refused to budge their attention from the warm pressure of Danny's palm on her tummy. What were they talking about again? Oh, yeah. Her house. She swallowed. "We'll sleep in later… when we get back from Judy Quinn's house."

  "Judy who?"

  "Quinn. Judy Quinn." She took a deep breath to settle her nerves then said, "Tony said-"

  "Why did I know this had something to with Wu?" Danny grumbled. "That ungrateful dude hasn't even bothered to thank me for getting Gio to talk to him."

  "Tony said," she emphasized, "that he still hasn't found the missing money, or whatever information Eric was trading. But Eric has an aunt who claims that they don't speak. Judy Quin. What if Judy was lying, and she and Eric actually speak? Maybe she has the money, or knows something."

  "And you want us to talk to her and find out?"

  "Yeah!" she said softly. "If you don't mind going with me."

  "I don't mind." She felt him smile against the back of her head before he said, "But it will cost ya?"

  "What? Another kiss?" she griped as her heart began thudding. The last kiss had been beyond this world, and to taste him again would be…

  "No," he cut into her thoughts. He pressed her lips against her hair as his palm on her stomach shifted lower. "Something a little different."

  Surely he didn't mean he wanted…

  Misha swallowed hard. "What do you want?"

  "A night in my bed."

  What? With a quick motion she shifted onto her back, turning her head so they were eye to eye. It was too dark for her to see anything but his silhouette, but perhaps that was better for what she needed to say. "Danny, we can't sleep-"

  "Get your head o
ut of the gutter, Alexander." His warm breath fanned over her face as he laughed. "Not what you're thinking. When I say a night in my bed I actually mean a night in my bed, sleeping - not making love."

  She opened her mouth and only one word came out. "Oh."

  "Don't sound so disappointed." She could hear the amusement in his tone as he added, "I've spent every night since you moved here in your bed. Just once I'd like to sleep in my bed. And since I know you need my strong muscular arms to hold you while you sleep…" He let the sentence hang.

  Misha wanted to say she was relieved that he wanted nothing more. But that wouldn't explain the immediate pang of disappointment his words wrought in her. Shoving her confusing emotions aside, she turned to lie back on her side and scoffed. "You call those thin stick things, muscle-y arms? I've seen better."

  "Where?" He cuddled back up against her. "I dare you to mention one person who has better arms than me."

  "Johnny Bravo," she responded pertly, as she eased back into his embrace.

  "Fictional. Doesn't count."

  "Sylvester Stallone."

  "Old enough to be your grandfather."

  "Hey, I like 'em old."

  "Ew…"

  Somehow against Misha's expectations, she fell asleep and wasn't troubled by a single nightmare. Once or twice, she awoke to find herself still in his arms and it was enough to comfort her back into slumber. There was no doubt that she loved sleeping in the same bed with Danny. Whenever she was with him, she felt a sense of being utterly protected, loved. It was the reason she hadn't protested their moving to his bed.

  She was just glad he hadn't asked for more… or was she?

  CHAPTER 19

  Not asking for more than her sleeping in his bed was a deliberate move. Had Danny asked for more, no doubt, Misha would've refused. This way he'd drawn her into his territory without her kicking up a fuss. And with her in his territory all bets were off. He'd be the one making the rules.

  During their drive to her house the next morning and the meeting with the representative from the security firm, Danny subtly resumed his efforts to seduce her and make her more comfortable with his touch. He kept touching her, keeping his arm around her, teasing her. And it was working. He could see it in the way she kept stealing glances at him when she thought he wasn't looking. He could see it in the faint flicker of desire in her eyes every time he touched her and how she leaned into him. Her reaction bolstered his courage.

  "Done?" he asked as he walked into her bedroom.

  "I think so." Misha nodded, her eyes on the suitcase lying open on her bed. In it were a few more of her clothes and toiletries. She wrinkled her nose. "It's a bit much though, isn't it? I've only got a few more days at your place."

  His heart stuttered at the realization that indeed her two weeks with him were almost up. He came up behind her and closed his hands over her narrow shoulders. "Are you that eager to leave my place?"

  In her sneakers she was significantly shorter than him. Her hair barely brushed his chin as she tilted her head to meet his eyes and smiled. "Nah, I kind of like hanging with you."

  "I like hanging with you too." He lowered his arms to her waist so he could hold her closer to him. Her hands automatically closed over his wrists as if wanting to keep him just as close. Propping his chin on the top of her head he added, "And no one's kicking you out of my house. How would you feel about staying with me until your leave expires?"

  She turned a surprised gaze upwards to meet his. "That's a whole month away!"

  "I know." He shrugged. "But I know how you hate to be bored. At least at my house you have me, Sarah, a swimming pool, a personal gym, one hundred plus channels…"

  "When you put it like that…" She laughed lightly.

  "Good. Then it’s settled." Dropping a kiss on her temple, he stepped away from her. "If you're done, then we should get to Judy Quinn's."

  An hour later, they found themselves in Queens and standing in front of Eric's aunt's building. Danny had seen better; the building looked like it was one notice from condemnation. The lobby was no better, with a dim light that kept switching on and off illuminating the paint peeling from the walls.

  "Damn it," he cussed when he spotted the 'Out Of Order' sign stuck to the elevator. "And she lives on the third floor?"

  "What's wrong, Hollis? Afraid of a little exercise?" Misha teased as she led the way up the dimly lit stairs.

  "I'm worried for you- not myself," he said as he set his hand on her lower back. "I doubt this is what your doctor meant when he said you needed exercise."

  "Don't worry. I'm good," she puffed out as they continued their climb.

  They passed a few of the tenants on their way up; garnered some curious looks, but no one stopped them. Thankfully Misha didn't look any worse for wear by the time they got to the third floor. They turned left, walked a few feet to stop at the fourth door. Misha knocked on the door. There was shuffling from inside the apartment, footsteps, then the doorknob turned.

  A brunette, middle-aged woman with angular features peered through the partially open door. "Yes?"

  "Hi, we're looking for Judy Quinn," said Misha

  "I'm Judy." The woman gave both Danny and Misha penetrating once-overs. "And you are?"

  "I'm Misha. He's Danny," Misha explained. "We're - we were friends of your nephew, Eric."

  Judy's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I didn't see you at his funeral."

  "No… well, that's why we're here," Misha rushed to explain. "We were out of the city at that time. Now that we're back, we felt that we should at least come and see you since you were his only relative. Make sure you're doing fine."

  "Oh. Oh, that's nice of you. Just a minute." Judy closed the door. A few seconds later, several snaps reverberated in the empty hallway. The door opened again but this time completely with Judy holding it open. With a smile, the thin brunette welcomed them, "Please come in."

  "Thank you." Danny and Misha entered the apartment. Despite the dilapidated state of the building and the tininess of her accommodations, it was obvious that Judy had made every effort to make the best out of it. The living room was clean and neat with the scent of fresh flowers and detergent lingering in the air.

  "Please don't mind the mess." Judy fussed with the soft cushions of the threadbare flowered settee. "Have a seat. Would you like something to drink?"

  "No, thank you," Both Misha and Danny refused the offer as they lowered themselves to the settee.

  "No. No. Please. I've got a kettle of tea all ready." Judy ignored their refusals as she hurried off towards what was obviously the kitchen, judging from the cooker visible through the open door. Her voice carried into the living room. "It won't be a minute."

  "I don't think she was lying," Danny mumbled once he and Misha were alone.

  "Lying about what?"

  "About not being in contact with Eric. Look at this place." He mused, "Don't you think if he'd shared his loot with her she'd live in a better place or at least have more expensive furnishings?"

  "You're right." Misha sighed in obvious disappointment. "But let's just stay for a couple more minutes. Maybe we can learn something about Eric."

  "Okay." Danny nodded.

  Several long moments later, Judy returned to the living room toting a kettle, three cups and a plate of cookies on a tray. Danny rose to help her with the tray and was rewarded him with a grateful smile. "Thank you."

  Straightening her green cardigan and gray calf-length skirt, Judy settled on the armchair opposite them. "So how did you two know Eric?"

  "He worked for one of our friends," Misha edited the truth. "His death was so sudden, a real shock to us."

  "Was it really?" Judy pursed her lips as she poured tea into their cups. Turn her gaze to Danny she asked, "Sugar?"

  "No, thank you." He shook his head.

  Misha similarly refused the offer for sugar and instead asked, "You don't seem too shocked."

  "Lord knows I don't want to talk ill of the dead," Judy sai
d as she passed them their tea, then proceeded to do just that. "But I knew this was coming sooner or later. I always told Marge, 'bring up your son in the ways of the Lord and he won't depart from them'. She didn't listen to me. Now look what happened." She leaned forward conspiratorially and whispered, "That boy was probably robbing that gas station when they shot him. I'm surprised he didn't steal from your friend."

  Misha and Danny shared a glance. Obviously Judy wasn't her nephew's biggest fan. Misha said, "Our friend didn't say anything about him stealing."

  "Just a matter of time." Judy loaded four teaspoons of sugar into her own cup. "I'm just glad that this time no one came here looking for me to pay them back for what he stole." She lifted her cup to her mouth, but then stopped midway. Shooting Danny and Misha nervous looks, she asked, "You didn't come here looking for payment did you?"

  "No, we're not looking for payment," Misha dismissed. "What exactly did he steal the last time…"

  Apparently blackmail wasn't Eric's first criminal enterprise. Junior year of high school, he'd taken to breaking into other students' lockers to steal money. The school had buried the complaints on condition that Judy pay what he'd stolen. Senior year, he was suspected of helping a gang of thieves break into the home of one his friends. No one could prove it but his friend had made quite the commotion thus forcing Judy to move him from that school.

  "We drifted apart when he went to college," Judy finished. "But to be honest it was a relief not to have to deal with his 'incidences'."

  "So you never met any of his college friends?" Danny asked, as he took a couple of sips of the thin tea.

  "Never." Judy pressed her lips together tightly. "They were probably unsavory riffraff anyway."

  "It's a shame that-" Misha started, but her words were interrupted by the sudden opening of a door to the right of the living room. All the three of them turned their attention to the curly-haired woman who came through the door and entered the living room.

  "Abby, come and say hello to our guests," Judy gestured for the young brunette to come farther into the living room. Abby was wearing what seemed like a uniform; a blue tunic with white tubing along the collar and arms, navy pants and high, black pumps to match the outfit. From her angular features and slender frame, it was obvious that Judy and Abigail were somehow related. It was proved when Judy said, "This is Abby, my daughter."