The Temptation

by Cheyenne McCray

  The picture of a very wealthy woman would have been complete if I’d had a toy poodle with a diamond-studded collar.

  It was evening by the time I walked into the D.C. hotel with Nick at my side. He carried both pieces of our luggage. I let him because I was playing up the part.

  The hotel was glitzy and glamorous, the perfect place for high-priced call girls and the men who used their services. If you could call prostitution a service. It was only Tuesday and I hoped there would still be a booming business in the earlier days of the week. The clock was ticking—we had to find my sister, and I desperately hoped she was here and not back in Boston. One way or another, I’d find out soon.

  Massive chandeliers dripping with cut crystals sparkled above us and huge flower vases with brilliantly colored cut flowers were set on tables interspersed among the furniture in the lobby. The carpeting was rich burgundy with gold and forest green designs.

  I wondered if Bachmann was holed up here. If he were, it would make it all the easier to find him. At least I hoped it would.

  Nick and I headed to the front desk. I had made reservations earlier this morning for a Mr. and Mrs. Lyle Stevens. Zane and Georgina had checked in separately sometime before us, and Ryan was set up in the surveillance van across the street.

  Again and again my thoughts turned to the fact that Bachmann had Rori. Those thoughts had consumed me since she was taken. If he hurt Rori in any way I was going to kill him. Well, I was going to kill him anyway, but I’d make it hurt first.

  I casually swept the lobby with my gaze, taking inventory. I had a hell of a headache. After my time with Nick I hadn’t been able to sleep. All I was able to think about was Rori.

  The only time Bachmann and I had come face-to-face, I had been in disguise as a Swedish madam. No doubt Bachmann had since seen photographs of the way I really looked—if he knew who I was and where I lived, then he no doubt had more information on me.

  Who could have given him that information? Where was the leak?

  Nick placed his hand on the small of my back. In the light of day I couldn’t believe I’d given up so much of myself last night in our conversation and in bed. A part of me was still holding back where the rest of me wanted to run to him and not away from him.

  As Nick checked us in, I kept my expression indifferent, as if staying in a hotel of this caliber was something I always did and we had the money to do it.

  After he secured our keycards, we walked toward the bank of elevators. Despite his casual demeanor, I knew he was just as aware of our surroundings as I. When the elevator doors opened, another couple stepped inside with us. They got off on the sixth floor while we continued on to the eighth.

  When we stepped off the elevator, we made our way to the suite we had booked and Nick used his keycard to open the door. He flipped on the light switch.

  The suite was exquisite with a cream-colored sofa and cream and navy blue chairs. I made my way across the room, my heels sinking into the soft navy blue carpet and then I stepped through a set of white French doors into a bedroom with a king-sized bed covered with a huge mound of pillows and a cream duvet with a design embroidered into it.

  Nick set our luggage down in the room and I swallowed as I took him in. He looked so sexy in his expensive white polo shirt and tan slacks. His dark hair had a slight wave to it and his eyes seemed an even more brilliant blue in the room’s lighting. The shirt stretched over his magnificent chest and his rock-hard biceps were on perfect display with the short sleeves. He had a deep tan that no doubt he’d gotten in Arizona.

  I turned and went to the window and pushed aside the curtain just enough to see the dark night and city lights. I looked down at the street and the busy movement of people going in and out of the hotel.

  The moment Nick moved closer my senses went on high alert. I could feel the strength of his presence behind me and caught his wonderful masculine scent. He rested his hand on my shoulder and I felt the warmth of it through my dress.

  “You make a beautiful redhead,” Nick said and I turned to look at him. The corner of his mouth quirked as I raised a brow. “Of course you are one hot little brunette.”

  The way he was looking at me made me want to feel his lips against mine again and to tumble right into that king sized bed.

  “Do you think this is a good idea?” I gestured toward the bed.

  He slowly shook his head. “Not even close.” He reached out and settled his hands on my bare upper arms. “But we’ve already started down that path so we’ll enjoy it while we can.”

  For some strange reason that caused an ache in my belly. What we had right now was only temporary and it wasn’t sitting well with me.

  He brought me closer, slowly lowered his head, and brushed his lips over mine. The simple touch of our lips sent a thrill through me. He drew away and fingered strands of my long red hair. The look in his eyes was so dark and intense that I swallowed, unable to look away from him.

  “We’d better unpack before my clothes get too wrinkled,” I finally said, breaking the tension filled moment between us. “You know how much I hate ironing.”

  He released my arms and took a step back. I moved past him, reached for my suitcase, and set it on the bed to start unpacking. Georgina had helped me pick out clothing from exclusive shops this morning that would work for a wealthy redhead on this op.

  I checked the contents of my purse and went over the RED-issued gadgets. A tube of lipstick that was actually a small explosive device; a perfume bottle with a knock-out potion; a mini pouch to slip into my bra that contained a lock-picking kit; and a mirror that had had a one way mirror and a camera. I could open the mirror and look like I was checking my makeup when I was actually aiming it at my subject and taking pictures of him or her.

  After touching up my makeup, I put on a sexy but elegant little black dress that had a scoop back and my arms were bare. I slipped on a pair of RED-issue gold earring that also served as microphones for Ryan to listen in more clearly on conversations, and I put in an earpiece that was so small it wouldn’t be detected. The delicate necklace had a pendant that was another camera and Ryan would see everything that I saw.

  “Can you hear me, Ryan?” I asked when I was ready.

  “Perfectly clear,” he responded. “I still think I got the raw end of the deal.”

  “Quit your griping,” Zane said over the earpiece. “You’re still a junior agent so you get the grunt work.”

  “Stop your fighting boys,” came Georgina’s sexy voice.

  Nick said, “Everything a go?”

  Everyone came back in the affirmative.

  “We’re almost ready,” I said.

  When Nick and I finished, he took my hands in his as he studied me. “Time to go down to the restaurant.”

  His touch did odd things to my belly so I tugged my hands so that he would release me. “Let’s go,” I said.

  As I turned, he put his fingers at my waist that was bared by the dress and I shivered. I looked up at him and decided the earpieces were a good thing or we might end up in bed at this very moment. My brothers and Georgina would be great chaperones.

  Chapter 14

  Penthouses, politicians, and picking locks

  After dinner, Nick and I went to the lobby bar and I sat where I had a perfect view of the entrance. Zane was there but of course Nick and I didn’t look his way. Georgina wouldn’t show up until later.

  Dinner had been delicious but uneventful. We did spot a table of three politicians and a judge but there were no female guests or escorts with them. Since the hotel was right in D.C., it wasn’t surprising that politicians met here for a dinner out.

  We waited a good hour before Ryan said over the earpiece, “Dawson is headed your way.” Like clockwork, Eric Dawson came through the lobby doors at ten PM.

  I watched him through the compact that served as a camera then gave Nick a sign. And then I was up, casually following Dawson. He had smooth even strides as he went to the elevator that we
nt exclusively to the upper floors where the finest suites were located. I just managed to catch up and slip through the elevator doors with him. He didn’t bother to hold the door open for me so it was a good thing I’m quick.

  He inserted a keycard then pressed the PH button for the penthouse floor. I pushed the button beneath that. Zane had managed to secure a keycard for the elevator for me, too, in case I needed it.

  It was a good sign that Dawson was going to the penthouse. Bachmann could very well be holed up there.

  I avoided eye contact with Dawson but could feel his gaze on me. I ignored him the best I could.

  “Do I know you?” he said, catching me off guard.

  Was he familiar with photographs of me? Could he see past my disguise?

  “No.” I gave him a cool look. “I’m certain we have not met.”

  “I don’t forget faces.” He studied me. “But I can’t quite place yours.”

  Damn.

  “I must look like someone you’ve met.” My voice was steady as I studied him in return, not backing down from his stare. “I, too, do not forget faces and I’ve never met you. I am certain I would remember if I had.”

  As I gripped my evening purse beneath my arm I turned away from him, but still felt him watching me. He said nothing else and I thanked God that the elevator reached the floor where I intended to get off.

  The moment the doors opened, I stepped out and moved purposefully down the hall and away from the elevator. If he were still watching me, I would at least look like I knew where I was going. Which I did. I headed for the stairs.

  “Smooth, Lex,” came Ryan’s voice over my earpiece as I walked. “Now let’s hope he doesn’t put together your face with your disguise.”

  “No kidding,” I said beneath my breath.

  “As short as you are, the camera on your necklace doesn’t do a whole lot of good when it comes to seeing faces, even with the wide-angle lens,” Ryan said. “Wear higher heels next time.”

  “Even if she wore six-inch heels it wouldn’t be enough,” Zane said.

  “Bite me,” I snapped.

  Zane laughed. “We’ll leave that up to Donovan.”

  My face went hot. Damn it.

  When I reached the stairs I pulled open the heavy door and let myself into the stairwell. I was careful to let it close slowly so that it didn’t slam. When it was completely shut I tried the doorknob. Locked.

  I didn’t have much hope that the door that led from the stairwell to the penthouse was unlocked. I climbed the stairs and reached the landing, and tried the doorknob. Yep, it was locked. I reached into my bra and pulled out my lock pick kit.

  It took only moments before I had the door unlocked and open and I tucked away the kit. Very slowly I opened the door and peered into a hallway that was luxuriously appointed. A large vase with an enormous bouquet of fresh cut flowers was on a table in the center of the wide semi-circular area in front of a pair of double doors to my left and an elevator on the right. As far as I could tell, the penthouse probably took up the entire floor.

  I frowned. Now what? I couldn’t just walk through the doors and announce myself. That would certainly be convenient for Bachmann.

  My mind turned back to Rori and I wondered if she was in there. I prayed she was, and that she was safe and no harm had come to her. As evil as Bachmann was, it was hard to believe he wouldn’t hurt her, but it was all I had to hold onto.

  The knob of one of the double doors started to turn and I stepped back into the stairwell, keeping the heavy door open just a crack so that I could see through the narrow gap. I took my pendant, raised it, and held it to the slim opening so that we could record anyone who came through that door.

  A man stepped out into the hallway and I caught my breath. It was Senator Brent Mackie who represented Massachusetts in the U.S. Senate. What was he doing here?

  Cold washed over me as he went to the elevator. If Bachmann really was in that penthouse, and Mackie had been in there with him, we might have a much more serious problem than I’d thought. This whole thing could go to the core of the U.S. Government. The fact that we continually saw government officials and judges regularly going in and out of the hotel at odd hours might be evidence of that. Of course this was D.C. and politicians were everywhere. But the hours were certainly odd.

  If members of the government were in Bachmann’s pocket, it might explain how I had been found. There was no telling what he could do if that was the case.

  Goose bumps pebbled my skin and I shivered as I watched Mackie go to the elevator and press the button. Maybe it was a wild leap to think members of the government were involved with Bachman, but why else would he be here?

  I lowered the pendant. “Did you catch that?” I said when Mackie was gone.

  Ryan gave a low whistle. “Sure did.”

  For the benefit of Zane, Nick, and Georgina who couldn’t see the video like Ryan had, I told them who had just walked out of the penthouse and my thoughts on that.

  I waited to see if anyone else came out, but the Senator was the only one for some time. I slipped off my shoes and set them aside when my feet started to ache from standing for so long.

  Finally, at least an hour later, I heard another rattle of the doorknob. I held up my pendant again as I peeked through the gap. This time a man came out whom I didn’t recognize. Hans Johansen was at one side of the man and Eric Dawson on his other.

  I studied the unknown man and my skin prickled. He had the same height and build as Bachmann, but his hair color and facial features were different. Dye would take care of the hair and plastic surgery would change the face. Was that Bachmann?

  Johansen slowly looked around the area as if checking it out. I prayed that he wouldn’t notice the stairwell door open a crack. He frowned and headed toward the door. My heart started beating faster. I didn’t dare let go of the door because it would make a loud thunk if I did.

  The elevator dinged. Johansen bent down and picked something up off of the carpet.

  “What are you doing, you idiot?” the unknown man said as he stepped onto the elevator. “Come. Now.”

  The voice wasn’t Bachmann’s. This guy’s voice was higher pitched and a little nasally.

  Johansen turned and walked back toward the elevator.

  Disappointed that the man wasn’t Bachmann, I blew out a rush of air as the elevator doors closed behind the three men. I wanted so badly for it to be the bastard. We could take him down and that would be that.

  It felt like eons had passed as I kept waiting for someone else to go in and out of that door but no one did. I used the square tube of lipstick to prop open the door to give my hands a rest. Even though the tube was an explosive device, I would have to manually trigger it in order for it to go off. It wouldn’t go off by accident. Or at least that was what I’d been promised by RED’s gadget expert.

  My arms were tired, my feet hurt, and my legs were sore from standing then kneeling. My scalp itched beneath my wig and I wondered if any of my dark hair was sticking out. It was hot and stuffy in the stairwell. Surveillance could be a real bitch but it went with the territory. I’d wanted to go to the penthouse door and slip inside to investigate, but I had no idea if anyone was in there.

  The elevator dinged. I did a quick stretch of my arms and legs as I stood. I pushed the tube of lipstick aside with my foot so that I could close the door to just a crack and raised the pendant to the opening.

  Two gorgeous women stepped out of the elevator. One was blonde with big blue eyes, tremendous cleavage, and a tiny waist, and she wore a sexy little blue sequined dress. The other woman was dark-haired and dark-eyed with a perfectly proportioned figure. She wore a silky black halter dress.

  Johansen followed the women out of the elevator. The blond glanced up at him and fear flickered in her eyes before her face became fully composed again. The man stepped between the women and they stood to either side of him as he went up to the penthouse door. He used a keycard and then they walked through
the open door. It closed with a solid thunk.

  Was Bachmann entertaining? Or was it something more?

  I pushed my hair out of my face. This sucked. I wasn’t much further along than I had been before I set up camp on the landing to the penthouse floor. The elevator dinged again.

  Congressman Joseph Jones stepped off of the elevator, a representative from Virginia. He pressed a button to the side of the double doors and I heard a chime from inside the penthouse. The doors opened and Jones walked inside before the doors were shut firmly behind him.

  “Are you getting all of this?” I said. “This time we’ve got a Congressman inside, possibly with Bachmann.”

  “Got it,” Ryan said. “Things just get deeper and deeper.”

  I nodded to myself then told everyone else who had just entered our target’s domain. Or at least what we hoped was Bachman’s place.

  Zane and Nick responded, but Georgina didn’t.

  “Georgina?” I said. “You there?”

  “She’s in the coffee shop,” Ryan said. “But I don’t think her mic is working. I haven’t been picking up anything from her.”

  “All right.” I knelt and slipped the tube of lipstick in to jam the door again and sighed. “This is going to be a long night.”

  “Do you want me to switch off with you?” Nick asked.

  “I’ve got it.” I rested on my haunches and looked at my dusty dress. The long strands of my wig were out of place and my hands and knees were dirty. “I now look like hell so I don’t think I’m fit for going back into public and playing my part. Might as well hang out here.”

  “Sooner or later you’re going to need a break,” Nick said.

  “It’ll be later.” I pushed strands of red hair out of my face, determined to stick it out. “Much later.”

  Chapter 15