Wicked Temptation

by Linda Verji

  Misha's gaze few upwards and widened as she stared at the older woman. "What?"

  "What happened?" Geneva popped a biscuit into her mouth as she studied Misha sharply. "You catch him with another woman?"

  "Uh… um… no," Misha tripped over her words, still reeling from the ambush. Setting her laptop on the coffee table, she said, "Danny and I aren't in a relationship."

  "Mm." Geneva snorted. "Or was it you? I always told your mama that you'd come back to black but Ida…" The old lady shook her head. "Ida thought Danny would marry you."

  The mention of her mother struck Misha dumb for a few seconds. But she recovered soon enough and asked carefully, "My mother thought Danny was going to marry me?"

  "With how he kept running around after you? Tch." Geneva sipped her coffee. "I'm surprised y'all don't have six children already."

  "Oh," Misha breathed as her heart started a low ache. Somehow the thought of her mother rooting for her and Danny only made her decision to cut off all contact with him that much more painful.

  Geneva peered at her. "So was it you?"

  After a brief pause to catch her breath, Misha said insistently, "No. It wasn't me. It wasn't him. There's nothing going on between us."

  "You young people these days." Geneva shook her head. "You give up too easily. My Ronald used drink like they were paying him to empty the bottles at Rough Joe's. Do you know how many times I made him sleep on the porch? But he still kept coming back in the morning and I still kept taking him back." She sat back in the couch as she proudly declared, "We were married for thirty eight years."

  "Mm mm." Misha nodded.

  Geneva waxed on, "You'll never get anyone perfect, girl. You take the one you've got and you shape it into what you want."

  "Too bad I don't have Danny," Misha mumbled under her breath.

  "You say something?" Then proving that age hadn't affected her hearing one iota, Geneva asked, "Why don't you have him? That man has been running after you like a chicken with its head cut off since he discovered puberty."

  Misha burst into laughter at the imagery of Danny with wings like a chicken and clucking after her.

  "You think that's funny? Leading that boy on like that?" Geneva's expression was somber as she studied Misha piercingly. "It's not. It's not right to play with someone's - anyone's feelings like that."

  Any humor Misha felt dried up at that chastisement. "I'm not playing with his feelings."

  "Ain't you?" Geneva leaned forward as she pointed at Misha. "You're telling me that you don't know that that boy likes you? That you've never realized it in all these years you've been friends?" She narrowed her eyes. "Either you're stupid or you think I'm stupid."

  Misha didn't know what to say. Feeling like she was being derided by her mother, she lowered her eyes to her hands, staring at them but not really seeing.

  Intuiting the answer, Geneva asked, "So if you know he likes you, and you like him-" She raised a quelling finger when Misha opened her mouth to protest that assertion. "Don't lie to me, girl. I've watched you grow up and I know you like I know my grandbabies. If he likes you and you like him then why are you tossing his feelings around like a ball?"

  Misha wanted to reiterate that she wasn't playing with Danny's feelings, but the words stuck in her throat. She supposed to an outsider it might look like she was leading him on. But hadn't she made it clear that they wouldn't be more than friends.

  Then promptly moved into his house, kissed him, made love with him then ran away without so much as a goodbye, her conscious reminded her.

  When she thought of it like that it seemed so ruthless, so cruel. She could imagine how Danny was feeling right now. Exposing himself, being rejected, then being accepted, then being rejected again. Geneva was right; she'd been playing with his feelings.

  "Mm, that's what I thought." The older woman warned, "You keep up with this and you'll lose him."

  The thought of losing Danny sent a pang of pain through Misha. But wasn't that what she wanted? To cut him off completely? God, this was all so confusing.

  "So why are you playing these games?" Geneva watched Misha perceptively, "What are you scared of?"

  Misha said quietly, "It's complicated."

  "Building an airplane is complicated. Understanding one of them Chinese manuals is complicated," Geneva scoffed. "You and Danny? Nothing complicated there. He loves you. You love him. What's really going on with you?"

  Misha found herself uttering a soft, "It's silly."

  "I've been around here a long time. I'm sure I've heard enough silly that yours won't even be a blip on my radar."

  "I - I-" Misha wanted to tell Geneva her fears but she couldn't. They were too ridiculous. She wouldn't understand. No one would. Misha stared at her hands, wanting so much to share but disbelieving that she'd be understood.

  Geneva reached forward and grabbed Misha's hand, drawing the younger woman's gaze to hers. Proving that age did indeed come with perceptiveness, she said softly, "It's okay if you don't want to tell me." She squeezed Misha's fingers as she added, "But you should at least tell your young man."

  "What if he thinks it's stupid?"

  "He might. But that doesn't mean he'll leave you," Geneva said as she sat back in her seat. "When two people have been friends for as long as you have, stupid don't change nothing. Besides at least you'll have told him your truth. He can take it or he can leave it. But I guarantee you'll feel a lot better."

  Was Geneva right? Was it time for her to tell Danny what was really going on and damn the consequences? Misha's stomach fluttered nervously as she imagined the conversation. What was worse - him thinking of her as a tease or him thinking of her as crazy? Neither option seemed particularly appealing. But then again if Danny thought of her as crazy getting him to stay away from her wouldn't be that hard.

  Geneva cut into her thoughts, "I'm not one for this mix and match business, but that white boy is all right, and he loves you. You know how hard it is to find that? At your age? You're what thirty-four?"

  "Twenty-nine," Misha corrected.

  "Mm mm mm." The older woman shook her head and pursed her lips. "Lord, those eggs will shrivel up before we get you to the altar. Where's your phone?"

  "It's not here."

  "I know that." Geneva uttered an exasperated sigh. "That's why I asked you where it was. Go and get it."

  "What do you want with my phone?" Misha asked warily.

  "Not me. You." The older woman gestured for Misha to stand up as she said, "Go get it. We're going to call Danny right now and you're going to tell him what's going on."

  What? Misha was thrown for a moment. Maybe, maybe she was willing to confess to Danny that she was mentally certifiable, but right now? She needed a minute- a few days to come up with a script for that sure-to-be unpleasant conversation. No way was she calling Danny right now, certainly not at this time of the morning. She latched onto the time excuse, "Mrs. Geneva, it’s four a.m. in the morning. I can't call him."

  "Tch." Geneva scoffed. "Matters of the heart don't wait for the sun. Go get your phone."

  How to refuse without offending the woman? Misha racked her suddenly empty brain for a viable excuse. Just when she thought she'd have to be rude, her laptop beeped.

  She'd never been so glad to receive a notification in her life. Quickly setting her laptop back on her lap, she said, "Give me a minute, Miss Geneva. I just got an email."

  "You kids and your techy techy." Geneva waved her hand dismissively then threatened, "But as soon as you're done we're calling Danny."

  Sucking in a relieved breath, Misha turned her attention to her computer. She navigated to her inbox only to find an email labeled; Who killed Eric?

  A click on the email revealed its message. Only two words. THEY DID.

  What? The email came with two attachments. A video marked Richard, and a document labeled Katherine. Misha clicked on the video. Her stomach muscles tightened nervously as she waited for it to download.

  "Is it from hi
m?"

  Her attention on the still downloading video, Misha asked distractedly, "From who?"

  Geneva didn't answer. She rose from her seat to shuffle behind Misha. Peering over Misha's shoulder at the laptop's screen, she asked, "What's that?"

  "Just a video," Misha mumbled just as her computer indicated that the download was completed. She quickly clicked on the video. It took about a second before it began playing. As soon as it did, both women gasped.

  "Lord of Mercy," Geneva yelped as she swiveled to face the back of the room. "This girl is trying to send me to the devil."

  Her jaw almost dropping to the ground, Misha snapped the laptop shut. Bloody hell! What had she just seen?

  CHAPTER 25

  If he was a recovering alcoholic, Misha would've driven him right back to the bottle, Danny thought as he finished his laps. Dawn's cold bit into his well-worked muscles as he emerged from the pool with water dripping down his body like a waterfall. He ran his hands through his hair to squeeze out the excess water as he padded to the pool lounge then picked up his towel.

  He'd always known that Misha was contrary, but these last few days she'd taken the art to whole new level. It'd taken everything in him to keep from rushing to her house last night and demanding that she give him a proper explanation. But it was her crying that had frozen him.

  What was so bad about their sleeping together-about him, that had her crying?

  It definitely wasn't the sex because he'd seen her face, felt her orgasm. No, she'd enjoyed that. Then what? What was the problem? Was she that scared of being in a relationship with him? Maybe she'd witnessed him treating one of his former lovers badly and didn't want to end up that way?

  Patting his body with a towel as he trailed a wet path into the house, Danny scoured through his past relationships. No, he'd never been in anything serious enough that someone's heart had been broken. In fact, he'd deliberately kept most of his relationships casual, sex only. Back then the choice had been unconscious but now he knew that his insistence on casual relationships was because he was waiting for Misha. Still, even in those casual relationships he liked to think that he'd treated his partners well and respectfully.

  So that wasn’t it.

  Well, then what was it?

  He padded to his bedroom, noticing as he went how quiet and lonely the house felt without Misha. And it wasn't just the house. His heart felt empty too. Striding past her room, his heart constricted painfully and he felt a similar emotion to the sick, hollow feeling he'd experienced when he'd lost his father.

  God, how he wanted her back.

  Sighing deeply, he strode into the shower. The warm water beat over his body, easing his sore muscles but doing nothing for his aching heart. This is your fault, his heart reminded his brain. If it was up to his heart, he would never have accepted Misha's request for a time out.

  He wanted to be with her, now.

  He wanted to know what was going on with her, now.

  He wanted to resolve the problem so they could be together, now.

  Now. Now. Now.

  But despite the demands of his heart, deep down he knew that it was the right thing to do. He'd already pushed enough, done what he could do, made his case. The ball was now in Misha's court. If they were moving to the next step then she'd have to be the one to lead them there. It was time for her to woman up and decide what she wanted.

  What if she decides that she doesn't want you? his conscious taunted. Hell. He swiped a frustrated hand over his face as he exited the shower and dried off. He didn’t want to consider that eventuality, but if it happened then he supposed he would have to give up on them. He'd sworn to do everything to win her but, hate it as he may, there was no winning a woman who didn't want to be won.

  This was one of those days he wished they'd been born in the Paleolithic era. Back then he'd already have gone Tarzan on her ass and carried her off to his tree house. His lips lifted in a reluctant smile as he imagined Misha hoisted up on his shoulder. The woman would probably scream her head off all the way to his lair, then as soon as he put her down kill him with his own club.

  God, how he missed her.

  It was as if God heard his thoughts because just as he was buttoning up his shirt his phone buzzed. The moment he glanced at the screen, his heart started beating erratically. Misha. Her name flashed on his screen as the phone buzzed on. He tried to quell his excitement as he swiped his thumb over the accept-call icon and pressed the gadget to his ear.

  "Morning, Misha."

  "Morning," she responded sounding calmer than she had yesterday. "I hope I didn't wake you up."

  "No, you didn't," he answered, though he knew she knew he'd be awake right now. She knew his morning schedule just as well as he knew hers.

  Which brought up the question; why was she awake at this time? Whenever she had her leave, Misha bordered on the verge of being a narcoleptic, spending more time asleep or in front of the TV than awake. He turned his wrist to check his watch. Six forty five a.m. What? How was she awake? Or was she, like him, unable to sleep because of their fight? Petty as it was, he felt better knowing that he wasn't the only one suffering.

  His tone even, he asked, "How can I help you?"

  "Do you think you could pass by my place before you head to work?" Perhaps thinking that he'd refuse, Misha rushed on, "I mean - if you have time. I know you have a lot of work - but it's- I-"

  "I’ll pass by," Danny cut into her stuttered plea.

  "You will?" The relief was palpable in her exhalation and soft, "Thank you."

  "I'm already dressed so give me about thirty to an hour."

  "Okay," she said, then ended the call. As soon as she did Danny wanted to call her back. She hadn't said why she wanted him to pass by her place. However, considering their conversation last night, it was fair to assume that they'd pick up right where they'd left off yesterday; why she was so scared of a romantic relationship with him.

  Warring emotions of hope and dread battled inside him as he finished dressing up then ate - or rather tried to eat breakfast. Was she calling him to her house to explain the problem? Or did she want to end it officially? Tension clawed at his nerves as he maneuvered his way through early morning traffic and headed to her place.

  What met him there was disappointment.

  The instant he turned the corner into her driveway he noticed the black SUV parked in front of her house. As soon as he saw the strobe lights and siren atop its roof, he knew whose car it was. Tony Wu was in there with Misha. Immediate anger rose to overshadow Danny's other emotions.

  What the hell was this? He cussed under his breath as he climbed the porch steps and rang the doorbell. Misha better not have called him over here to discuss the investigation when she knew damn well that their issues should be a priority. Sure, Eric Ingram was interesting and important. But he was dead and wasn't going anywhere any time soon. Shouldn't her priority be on the living? Eric's murder could be solved any time after they'd fixed what was going on with them.

  It took time but, finally, the door lock snapped. Seconds later Misha stood at the open door. She welcomed him with a tentative smile. "Thank you for coming over."

  As usual she looked lovely and poised; from her neat short hairstyle, to her charcoal gray, oversized, off-shoulder sweater, to her dark blue pencil jeans, to her bare, pink-tipped toes. The only thing off about her was her eyes. They were red and, a bit swollen as if she hadn't slept or she'd been crying - or maybe both.

  Danny's heart squeezed painfully at the thought of her crying. Determined not to let that sway him he narrowed his gaze on her. "Please tell me that I'm not here because of Eric's case."

  Misha's smile fell as nervousness crowded into her eyes. "I- I thought you'd be interested in what I found today. I guess I was wrong." Her eyes dropped to her bare feet and her grip on the door tensed as she apologized haltingly, "I'm sorry for making you drive all the way over here."

  In the face of her nervousness and despite himself, Danny
softened. His tone was friendlier when he said, "I didn't say I wasn't interested. But don't you think we've got bigger issues to deal with?"

  She just nodded.

  What was he going to do with her? Shaking his head, he peered past her into the house. "I suppose Wu is already here?"

  "He's in the living room," Misha explained. "I called him after I called you but he got here first."

  Danny supposed that was a consolation; that she'd called him first and not Tony. He took a step into the house. The instant he did, Misha quickly stepped aside to let him in, planting her back against the wall as if she was trying to keep them from touching.

  Quelling his annoyed sigh, Danny led the way into the living room. Tony was planted on one of the armchairs, his attention on the screen. Alerted by the sound of footsteps, he lifted his gaze to Danny's and offered a chilly, "Hollis."

  Seeing the man so comfortable in Misha's house was enough to sear a jealous path through Danny. He hid it well under his cold, "Wu."

  Tony turned his attention to Misha who'd just walked into the room. "I'll have to take your laptop with me so our techs can try to trace the IP address of the sender."

  "Yeah." Misha settled on the same couch as Danny but so close to the arm, one careless shift and she'd end up on the floor. She added, "But let Danny see the video and the document first."

  For about a minute Tony looked like he might protest. But then he shrugged then with a, "Fine," he passed the laptop to Danny.

  Forgetting her attempts to prevent all contact, Misha scooted closer to Danny, steeping him in her soft citrusy scent and ruffling his awareness of her. She pointed to the video currently minimized on her desktop. "That one."

  He maximized the video. The second he saw the naked butt paused on screen he knew it was a bad idea to play the video. But curiosity was a cruel mistress, and he found himself pressing play. The sound of men grunting immediately filled the room, it was accompanied by images on screen that could only be described as 'interesting'.

  "Oookay!" Danny winced as he watched the two men on screen do their vigorous version of the naked mambo. Ow! That had to be painful. Even the man on the bottom screamed a littl- Wait! Was that… He gaped. "Is that Richard Wilde?"