Wicked Temptation

by Linda Verji

  Ah! That explained Katherine's double withdrawal. It also explained why Eric had thought she was the one who took his money the third time. She must've figured out they were being blackmailed by the same person when her son borrowed the exact amount she'd been asked for.

  Which in turn brought up a lot of questions. Questions like; Did that mean Katherine had repossessed her money? Or killed Eric afterwards? Where did Lauren play into all this? Eric must've gotten his information from somewhere. Judging from what they knew so far, she was the only one who hadn't been blackmailed. So maybe she was his source. But if she was wouldn't he have given her a cut of his loot?

  In fact where was Lauren to answer all these questions?

  "I don't know," Bradley responded when Misha asked. "The last time I saw her was during my appointment celebration."

  But noting how his gaze darted away as he responded, Misha raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "She hasn't called you?"

  Bradley licked his lips, paused then glanced back at Misha. "Look, Lauren is probably somewhere relaxing and doesn't want our parents on her back. She's not the one-"

  The sudden opening of the door brought Bradley's words to a screeching halt.

  "Sir, sir, he has a meeting." A woman's harried voice carried from the hallway to Bradley's office. Seconds later, the door was thrust completely open and Judge Richard Wilde walked in.

  "Dad, what are you doing here?" Bradley's chair screeched in alarm as he shoved it backwards to stand at his father's arrival.

  "Do I need an appointment to come to my own son's office now?" The older Wilde proclaimed as he strode in. An older, brasher version of Bradley complete with the blond hair, hooked nose and stocky frame, Richard surveyed the office and immediately homed in on the still seated Misha. His brow furrowed as he stared at her.

  Bradley rushed in to soothe his father, "Of course not. But I have a visi-"

  "I know you." The judge's eyes pierced into Misha. "You're that reporter g-" His gaze swung to Bradley, rage already bubbling in his voice and shaking jowls. "You're talking to the press?"

  "No, of course n-"

  "Young lady, I think it's time for you to leave." Richard gave her a cold glare.

  "But, Judge Wilde, wouldn't you like-"

  "It is time to go." Catching Misha by surprise, Richard strode towards her and grabbed her arm.

  "Hey. Let go," Misha protested as he stood her up roughly.

  "Dad, stop this," Bradley tried to help to no avail. Richard's cold expression grew another fifty degrees frostier as he bodily shoved Misha toward the door. Once she was out in the hallway, he slammed the door in her face.

  No. This. Buster. Didn't.

  "What the hell did you think you were doing talking to her?" Richard's raised voice boomed through the closed door.

  No, he didn't. Misha propped her fists on her waist and stared at the locked door in consternation mixed with a large measure of anger. She was contemplating going back in when the door partially opened, and a red-faced Bradley peered out. "I'm sorry." He held out her handbag and phone. "I'm so sorry."

  The door closed again.

  Wow! Richard Wilde had just shot to the top of her suspect list.

  Anyone who could treat a lady like that was capable of anything… anything.

  CHAPTER 22

  She was still reeling with anger as she took the elevator down. Any other day she would've called Danny to rant, but after last night… Well, she was keeping away from him until necessary. On the way home, she called Tony to update him on her recent findings and prod him to take a deeper look at Richard Wilde.

  The uncomfortable encounter with Richard, and the anger it'd caused, had made Misha oddly hungry. As soon as she entered the house and kicked off her heels, she headed for the fridge. Along with the lasagna Sarah had considerately made before leaving, there were rows of left-over food. But Misha only craved one thing;

  Chocolate chip ice-cream with lots and lots of chocolate chips.

  Of course Danny had it. The perks of living with someone who knew you better than you knew yourself. By the time Misha was done serving herself, there were more chocolate chips than ice-cream in her bowl. She shoved a healthy spoonful into her mouth as she trod bare-foot to the living room then plopped in front of the TV.

  The spoon dangling from her mouth, she messed with the remote and scrolled through several channels. Nothing held her interest. A show about a group of in-their-twenties men and women living it up in a house somewhere in Oregon captured Misha for about twenty minutes. But that was only because she was amazed at the participants' sheer brilliance and creativity in finding a way to get paid to drink and act badly. Heck, she'd gone into the wrong career.

  Three fights later (Over either the house's super-greasy Lothario or a sanitary towel carelessly left on the bathroom floor) and it got old. With a bored sigh, Misha switched off the TV. She strode back to the kitchen to top her ice-cream bowl again, then headed out to the patio.

  The brilliant sun was enough to lighten her mood, and the way it bounced over the pool's water… Hey, she hadn't tried Danny's pool since her arrival. That was more due to her reluctance to wet her perm rather than any medical warning she'd been given.

  Well, it was time to remedy that.

  Excited at the thought of splashing around in the pool and lounging in the sun, Misha headed to her room to change. She'd packed two swimsuits; a navy one-piece and a white two-piece, but she decided on the two-piece mostly because when Danny was around she was more comfortable in the one-piece. She tended to spill out of the two-piece and considering their situation, she didn't want him getting the wrong idea.

  "Yeesh!" She shook her head as she stared at herself in the mirror a couple of minutes later. Spilling out was an understatement for how she looked in the bikini. Damn! She knew she was fat, but it seemed the weeks of spending so much time on her ass had given her a little something extra. The white halter-neck bra could barely hold her breasts. The girls were popping out of the fabric like oversized prisoners determined to make a jailbreak. And the bottoms… Lord! The edges kept riding up, trying to act like she was wearing a thong.

  You know what… to hell with it. She wouldn't look at herself, and most especially not at her slightly rounded tummy or the ugly scar running across it. She was going for a swim not a beauty pageant. And besides, it wasn't like anyone would see her.

  Danny usually came home at six, right? She set her phone alarm for five thirty.

  "There." She smiled as she set the phone on small table next to a pool lounge. She took a couple of steps then dove into the water.

  Danny got home earlier than usual. Three forty-five to be precise.

  Sure, he still had work pending but there was nothing urgent. Besides, it was hard to work when all he could think of Misha. Could anyone blame him for being distracted? After the sexy wake-up call she'd given him then holding her naked body all night, he was surprised he'd even made it to work.

  He'd thought he was in a dream when he'd woken up to her stimulating herself on his cock. No way it could be reality because the Misha he knew was still professing that they were just friends. She would never make the first move. But then she had… and what an erotic first move it was. She'd felt so damn good. Being wrapped around her, thrusting between her thighs, feeling her warm heat cupping his cock. The memory alone was enough to start a vicious throbbing in his body.

  "Misha," he called out eagerly as he kicked off his shoes. There was no answer. "Misha."

  He was sure she was around. Her pumps were by the front door and her bag on the floor beside them. Wait, she'd left the house? To go where? Forget that… Where was she? "Misha."

  Still no response. He peeked into the living room. When he didn't find her there, he headed to her bedroom to check if she was taking a nap. No one there, but her dress was draped over the bed along with a jacket. His brow creased in confusion, he strode back to the living room. This time he actually entered the room. That's when he not
iced that the sliding doors leading to the patio were open.

  As soon as he passed through the patio doors he spied her. Her horizontal position on the pool lounge shielded her partially from his gaze and all he could see was her elbows and her legs. However, the closer he edged to her, the more of her was revealed. He immediately realized why she hadn't answered his calls. Her eyes were shielded by sunglasses but by her parted lips and even breaths it was obvious she was asleep.

  But it wasn't her face that held his attention.

  What the hell was she wearing? His mouth dropped open as he was confronted with the full-frontal impact of her swimsuit. On a less endowed woman, the swimsuit could've worked, but on Misha… well, wow. The fabric covering her bust could barely hold her large breasts. In fact all it covered was the nickel-sized tips and he could guess for himself how those looked from the way they were poking against the fabric.

  And her bottoms… What bottoms? That excuse of a string could hardly be called a swimsuit bottom. The triangle barely hid her shaved pussy and the strings holding it intact served as beacons drawing his gaze to her wide hips.

  Danny's cock reared strongly at the sight of her sexy, curvy body in that bikini. He was just glad that she wasn't wide-awake to see the effect she was having on him. What was he supposed to do now? Wake her up and risk her covering up all that sexiness with the towel at her feet? Let her sleep and keep staring at her like a creepy dude? Wake her up with a kiss? Cover her up and let her sleep? Walk away?

  His baser instincts and his chivalrous instincts fought for supremacy. Finally, he decided to placate them both. Go change then come back and swim. That way he could cool his ardor, enjoy her presence without staring at her creepily, and when she woke up he'd be there to convince her to let him touch her.

  A couple of minutes later, he came back outside having changed from his suit to swim-shorts. With a smooth dive, he cut into the water. He managed to do a couple of laps, before she woke up. In fact if he wasn't watching out for it he would've missed her sitting up then stilling when she saw him in the water.

  His instincts told him that if he didn't get to her fast she would scramble into the house. In fast strokes he made for the shallow end of the pool. By the time he set his feet on the floor of the pool and straightened out of the water, Misha was standing and wrapped in a towel.

  "Hey," he called out as he wiped the water from his face. "Where are you going?"

  Her eyes wide in a deer-caught-in-the-headlights kind of way, she grasped the edges of her towel "Ah, I was-" She gestured wildly towards the house. "I- I wan- want to-"

  "Get in the water. It feels really good," he urged. Determined to ease her nervousness, Danny pasted an affable smile and teased, "Or are you afraid that I'll ask for a rematch?"

  "What?" Her brow furrowed.

  "Ho ho. Now she's pretending she doesn't remember." He chuckled as he smoothed the water out of his hair. "The last time you were in here I beat you."

  "That's a damn lie." Already relaxing, Misha propped her fists on her hip and sneered. "You couldn't beat me in a race even if I gave you fins and strapped a rocket to your back."

  "Yeah, right!" Danny scoffed before turning away from her and diving back into the water. His dive was meant to serve two purposes. 1) Act as an unconscious challenge - something Misha couldn't resist, and 2) Give her time to drop her towel without being scared of him seeing her.

  Seconds later he heard a splash of water behind him. With a smile, he sped up his strokes into the water. Maybe she was that fast or maybe, as he preferred to believe, he slowed down for her but soon enough she caught up with him. They both emerged at the edge of the deep end of the pool.

  "Waaah. Waaah. Waaah. The crowd erupts into cheers as Alexander proves that she's still the Queen of The Waters, Supreme Ruler of All Underwater Creatures, and Lady and Mistress of Daniel Landa-Hollis." Misha floated beside him with a wide grin. "Bow to your goddess, puny human."

  Danny protested, "I had a leg cramp."

  "Cramp, shlamp," Misha jeered as she waded toward him. "Bow." He didn't see her coming. One moment he was contesting her win, the next she'd pushed his head into the water and dunked him. He came up spluttering water from his mouth, but she pushed him back in. "Bow."

  Oh, it was on. The next time she dunked him, he swooped low and grabbed her legs trying to flip her over. Not one to go down easily, she kicked him at him. When he released her, she swum away thus commencing a chase that ended at one long end of the pool.

  "Apologize," he taunted as he stalked her along the edge of the pool. The water was shallow enough at this point that they were both grazing the floor. She could run but considering he was blocking her path across, there was no real escape for her.

  But of course that didn't stop Misha from giving him a haughty look, and retorting, "Hell. No."

  "Wrong move, Alexander." Danny smiled and waded closer to her.

  She moved towards the right, but he'd expected that eventuality and before she could swim away, he trapped her in between his arms. Now, there was really nowhere to go. The pool's edge to her back, his arms bracketing her and the rest of his body in front of her; talk about being between a rock and a hard place.

  And yes, he was hard.

  How could he not be? He was close enough to be seduced by her feminine scent, and the water was clear enough that he could see her whole body draped by that skimpy white bikini. It was only his willpower keeping him from lowering his gaze so he could brazenly check her out.

  But his gaze must've revealed his arousal because Misha's eyes suddenly shadowed with anxiety, and she rushed in with a, "Okay, I'm sorry. You win."

  "No." He shook his head as his stare dropped to her lips. "Too late."

  He lowered his head but before he reached his target, her hands flew between them to push at his chest. "Danny, No."

  He stopped the downward descent of his head, but didn't move away from her. "Why?"

  He almost groaned aloud when she moistened her lips then said, "We can't."

  "Why not?" Not even a team of horses could've dragged him away from her. He let his lower body float closer to hers.

  The moment his erection touched her tummy, her eyes widened. He expected her to push him away, but instead her gaze flew downwards as if to check him out. He doubted she could see anything considering her voluptuous breasts were blocking the view rather deliciously. But she must've liked what she saw because the hands on his chest fisted and she bit her lip. Her, "We can't," sounded quite reluctant.

  "Why not?" he repeated, narrowing the distance between his arms until they touched her shoulders. "Give me a reason."

  "Because… because it will ruin our friendship," she stuttered out her well worn excuse.

  But today he was prepared. He'd left in the morning knowing that she'd try to back out of taking their relationship to its next logical step, so he'd spent his day coming up with contingency answers for her protests. Moving his hand to her neck, he said, "No, it won't. It will make our friendship even better. I've read many, many articles and they all say that the best relationships are those that start with friendships."

  "We're different." Her eyes were wild with both anxiety and desire as she tapped lightly on his chest with her closed fist. "What if we don't work out? What about when it ends? I don't want to mess up our friendship over a fleeting romance."

  Danny hated seeing her so anxious. Any other day, he would've let her go. But this time he wasn't fighting just for her; he was fighting for himself too. The last couple of days had solidified his belief that Misha wanted him as badly as he wanted her. And he already knew that she loved him. Weren't physical attraction and emotional love the cornerstones for being in love?

  He had no idea why she was so intent on denying the obvious feelings between them, but he wouldn't let up until she accepted them.

  "Who says it has to end?" he countered, bracketing her completely in the circle of his arms. Ignoring her fists still pressed to his chest, he
floated closer to her and tangled their feet. "Baby, we're a great match. We're not some burn hot then fizzle out couple. We've been friends for way too long. We've seen each other at our best and our worst, and still haven't walked away. We know each other inside and out. I know you hate when I call you early in the morning, or when I finish the milk and leave the bottle in the fridge. You know that I'll do it anyway…"

  That drew a reluctant smile from her, visible despite her bowed head.

  Smiling softly, he lifted one hand and cupped the back of her head. "You know I hate football. I know you hate hockey. You know I can't stand the smell of cocoa butter. I know you pretend to be allergic to lamb when we visit Femi because you hate how she cooks it."

  This time Misha gave him a laugh and lightly punched his chest.

  "Why can't we be more?" He set two fingers on her chin and tipped her head up. "What are you so scared of?"

  But she refused to look at him and shook her head. "You won't understand."

  "Then help me understand?" When she wouldn't answer, he asked, "That you'll lose me?" because it was the only thing that made sense to him. He inched closer to her and lowered his head. She turned her face away before he could set his lips to hers.

  Undeterred, Danny pressed his lips to the side of her face. Her breath hitched when he kissed a trail from her temple to her jaw, and her fist opened up over his heart. He murmured against her skin. "I'm not going anywhere, Michelle. I've loved you since I was fourteen and I don't think I could ever stop or walk away."

  "You- you can't guarantee that," she stuttered as her hands lowered to frame his waist.

  "No, I can't," Danny admitted. He tried again for her lips but she ducked her head. So he set open-mouthed kisses on her neck as he lowered his arms into the water and onto her thighs. His heart lifted in elation when she willing wrapped her legs around his flanks.

  The first real contact between their lower bodies almost undid him as did the rise of her arm to loop around his shoulder. He could feel every inch of her; her tits pressed tightly against his chest, her thighs clumped around his, his hands cupping her ass, her pussy rocking against his erection. It was enough to make any man light-headed.