Dangerous.
She had an irresistible urge to slip her hands underneath the hem of his shirt and trail her fingers over all that warm skin. She might have even licked her lips.
Her gaze traveled over his broad chest and to his face, where she found his expression unreadable and his eyes hooded.
For one breathless moment she thought he was going to usher her out of the office with cold rejection.
Instead, he took a step toward her.
***
Ian had been reading a long, tedious email from a client complaining that Northern Wolf Services discriminated against people with a criminal background, when Leah walked out of the bathroom accompanied by the scent of mint. She’d discovered his toothpaste, he thought as he sat back and studied her. She was utterly beat. She hadn’t eaten since he’d picked her up in Scotland, and her skin was pale beneath the smattering of freckles across her nose.
He forwarded the email to Anders with a single sentence: Deal with this ass. Then he closed his email and stood, lifting his arms over his head to stretch. The movement shifted his t-shirt upward and Leah’s eyes fell to the revealed skin. Her skin flushed, but instead of looking away, she ran her eyes over his chest and to his face. It was subtle, but her respiration rate increased.
Shit, she even bit her lip.
Ian inhaled at the sight of her sharp little teeth sinking into her plush bottom lip, desire striking him hard and fast.
Involuntarily he took a step forward, and then another. He’d nearly reached her when a rational thought made it through the haze of lust in his brain. Leah was tired and emotionally defeated. He’d be a bastard for taking advantage of her now.
He stopped six inches from her and closed his eyes. Damn. He had to get himself in check.
“What are you doing?” Her voice was breathy and curious, and the combination pulsed another wave of desire through him. He needed to get away from her before he did something stupid.
He opened his eyes even though he knew it would be impossible for her to miss the heat in them. “Stopping myself.”
“From?”
“From pushing you against that wall and tasting you.”
He didn’t know what he expected her to say, but it wasn’t the indignant question that followed.
“Why?”
Chapter 15
“What do you mean?” His voice was low, gravelly, and it sent a shiver up her spine.
He was so close Leah could feel the body heat rolling off him, smell the clean linen scent of his laundry detergent and the lingering notes of male cologne. The air between them practically sizzled with electricity and her fingertips tingled with anticipation.
In that moment she didn’t care that she’d just pledged to swear off men. There was something combustible about the chemistry between her and Ian, and her instincts warned her that if he kissed her she’d go up in flames. A smart woman would turn tail and run.
Screw that.
“Why are you stopping?”
Her question caught him by surprise and his eyes widened fractionally before they darkened with something hot and possessive. He erased the remaining distance between them and slid his hand into her hair. Cupping the back of her head in his palm, he tilted her face upward and touched his lips lightly to hers.
Every coherent thought in Leah’s head did a Victorian faint. His lips were warm and brushed over hers with practiced ease. After a moment his tongue ran along the seam of her lips, skillfully coaxing her mouth open. Not that it took much coaxing. The moment he’d touched her, her long neglected libido had screamed, yes!
Leah wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her mouth, eagerly granting him full access. He slanted his lips, deepening the kiss by degrees, his exquisite control only serving to make her more frantic. She pulled him closer and rubbed against him, needing him as wild and unrestrained as she felt.
The moment she pressed against the rigid length of him, his control snapped.
He growled in her mouth, dropping his hands to her ass and effortlessly lifting her so that her legs wrapped around his waist. He backed her into the wall, his mouth hot and wild, the heat of his raw passion scorching. One hand yanked up the hem of her shirt and slid underneath. His fingertips stroked over the skin of her lower back, leaving a tingling trail in their wake. Leah wanted that hand higher and toward the front.
She scrabbled for the bottom of his shirt and her fingers brushed against something hard at the small of his back—his gun. Ignoring the weapon, she splayed her fingers over his smooth, muscled skin and worked the t-shirt up. She had it halfway off when someone knocked on the door.
Leah froze. Ian dragged his mouth from hers but kept her eyes pinned with his.
“I’m busy.”
As he spoke, he slid his hand around to her belly. She sucked air into her lungs at the feather-light touch. The pads of his fingers drifted upward and he watched her expression closely when he cupped her ribcage, his palm seeming to span half her abdomen.
Leah was a sucker for masterful men, and she instantly felt wet and achy. Her heart beat wildly and she silently begged him not to stop. The corner of his mouth lifted, and she knew her expression had spoken her request. He shifted his hips, deliberately rubbing the length of his erection against her core, driving her need to stratospheric heights.
Leaning forward, his teeth clamped gently over her bottom lip just as another knock sounded, this one more insistent.
“We need you out here, Ian. We’ve got a problem.”
Ian halted, his mouth still on her. His fingers flexed around her ribcage as he visibly fought the urge to tell the person on the other side of the door to fuck off. Then he snarled an expletive and slid her down his body, slowly, purposefully, letting her feel every inch of him before he set her on her feet.
He adjusted his shirt, tugging it over the gun at the small of his back, and raked his hand through his mussed hair. Leah knew she was going to need a lot more work. Her lips were swollen from his kisses and her cheeks burned where his stubble had scratched her. She’d bet twenty dollars she looked just like what she was: a woman who’d been five minutes from losing her pants.
She smoothed her hair down and told herself the knock was fortuitous. It was better this way.
Her libido strongly disagreed.
Before opening the door Ian shot her a smoldering look. “We’re not finished.”
Leah’s toes curled.
Chapter 16
Anders’ mouth was moving but Ian was having a hard time paying attention to what the other man was saying. All he could think of was the soft and flushed woman he’d left behind in his office. He hadn’t meant to actually touch her. Sure, he’d fantasized about how her skin would feel from the moment he’d set eyes on her wearing those adorable yellow rain boots and short shorts that showed off mile-long legs, but he hadn’t meant to act on it. The fact that she’d dated his—for lack of a better word—archenemy, should have been enough to put him off for good.
Except he’d quickly discovered his attraction to Leah Parker went beyond sexy shorts and bitable lips. She was strong and smart and quirky. If anyone else had gone through what she had in the past few days, they’d probably be in a heap of tears. Not Leah. Although she’d been betrayed by the biggest son of a bitch he knew, she’d taken it in stride and was doing all she could to right her wrongs. He had to admire that kind of fortitude.
Still, he was driving her to the airport later that night and once they parted ways it was unlikely they’d see each other again. For that reason alone he should have kept his hands off her. He doubted she was the type of woman to engage in a casual affair, and that was all he was able, or willing, to offer.
But when she’d looked at him and demanded to know why he’d stopped himself from kissing her, he’d lost all control. It was a rare thing for him to lose control; his entire career was built on his ability to deny himself immediate gratification. That he was finding it so difficult to keep his hands and
thoughts off her concerned him. A distraction in the form of a woman who talked to sheep and smelled like the sea was the last thing he needed.
“Are you listening to me?” Anders asked. His lifted brows signaled his surprise at even having to ask the question.
“Yes.” Sort of.
Anders must have doubted him because he repeated the urgent issue. A bastard of a client Erik usually handled was demanding Ian take on his case right that moment.
Anders crossed his arms over his chest. “What should I tell him?”
“I’ll speak to him.”
“Do I have to remind you he’s our biggest paying client?”
Ian growled. “He’s certainly our biggest pain in the ass.”
“What will you say?”
“I’m going to tell him to fuck off.”
Anders sighed. “I’ll tell him it’s Dag or no one. You haven’t briefed us yet, but I have a feeling you’ve got some serious shit going on.”
“Yes, and I don’t have time to deal with client temper tantrums. Tell him whatever you want; I doubt we’ll lose him. He knows we’re the best there is.”
Nodding in agreement, Anders jotted a note in his phone.
“Everyone in the conference room?” When Anders answered in the affirmative Ian said, “I’ll grab Leah. Let’s get this over with.”
***
By the time Ian returned Leah had pulled herself together, and by the looks of him so had he. The passion had faded from his eyes, and his expression had returned to one of impassive business.
It’s for the best.
Ian steered her into a duplicate of the conference room they’d met Svein in, only scaled larger. The soft murmur of colleagues catching up with one another ceased when they entered. The scent of coffee hit her at the threshold, and Leah spotted Anders, Svein, and Mia with steaming white mugs on the table in front of them. There were three other people in the room and their faces did not look friendly.
Standing at the far end of the conference table was a hulking blond, his arms crossed over a heavily muscled chest. Leah thought he looked an awful lot like the Russian boxer from Rocky IV, and figured he was probably about as nice as him too.
Leaning a hip on the table beside the giant was a woman wearing black combat pants and a black stretchy t-shirt. Her long, auburn hair fell in shiny waves around her shoulders and framed cheekbones that were model-delicate. The third unknown person was seated in a wheelchair across from Anders and flipping through a stack of papers. He was an older gentleman with a shock of pepper gray hair that stood on end as if he’d been electrocuted. An unlit cigar dangled from his mouth.
“Take a seat,” Ian said to the room. The redhead and giant found chairs, and Leah sat between Ian and Svein at the head of the table, trying not to feel as if she were a defendant on trial in front of a jury. “Do we have Erik with us?”
Mia held up her index finger and set her coffee down. She flipped open her laptop and remotely connected to a slender, conical object at the center of the table. A blue light blinked on the object, and then a cone of white projected Mia’s laptop screen onto the wall. Moments later a man’s face appeared.
Erik did not look as Leah had pictured him. She’d assumed that because he was Nordic he’d be a blond duplicate of Ian, but instead he was a film negative of him. Where Ian’s hair was the same shade of blond as hay, Erik’s was richly brown. Both men had military haircuts and strong jaws, but Eric’s was covered with at least three days’ worth of growth, and blue crescent shadows were stamped beneath his eyes. Ian was strong and healthy, while Erik was pasty and haggard. It was clear he was unwell.
Mia turned the laptop around and adjusted it so that Erik could see the group of people seated around the conference table.
“How are you feeling?” Ian asked.
“Like shit,” Erik replied. He sounded as if they’d interrupted his nap. “Is that Svein?” Svein leaned forward and saluted smartly. “Good to see you man. How’s married life treating you?”
“Can’t complain,” Svein answered. “Now this Sokolov fucker on the other hand . . .”
And with that, they were back to business. Ian introduced the three newcomers to Leah. The giant was named Dag and he was a forensic accountant who, according to Anders, could find a penny clenched between a pair of butt cheeks. The model-esque woman, Chani, was the head of bodyguard services.
“This is Dave,” Ian continued, nodding at the man in the wheelchair chewing on the soggy cigar. “Dave is…” He hesitated, trying to find the right words. “Dave is our administrative assistant.”
There were the sounds of guffaws and snorts. “Administrative assistant my ass,” Anders said.
Dave didn’t seem the least put out by the response. He flashed Leah a smile crowded with yellow teeth and said, “How do you do, pretty lady?”
She smiled back. It was her first genuine welcome.
“Everyone, this is Leah Parker, a paralegal for Washington D.C.’s District Attorney’s Office.”
There were several raised eyebrows and exchanged looks, but before anyone could comment there was an electronic throat clearing. “Ahem.”
“Oh sorry, Erik. I forgot you were there.”
“Sure you did. I’m Erik Halvorsen, co-founder of Northern Wolf Services.”
Leah gave the computer a little wave. “You’re the guy who finds things.”
Someone made a joke in Norwegian and there were spattered barks of laughter from the men and eye rolls from the women. Although Leah didn’t understand Norwegian, the response to a dirty joke was international.
Ian didn’t laugh out loud, but he appeared amused. “The reason I called this meeting, and the reason we’ve raised Northern Wolf Services’ threat level, is that we strongly suspect our organization is under surveillance.”
The good humor drained from the room like water from a bathtub. A few people shifted in their seats. Chani’s eyes narrowed on Leah.
Apparently Ian’s team was as in the dark about Sokolov as she had been, so Ian spent the next several minutes cluing them in. The more Leah learned about the man she’d once watched an entire series of Frasier with while cuddling on the couch, the more leaden her stomach turned. Ian spared no details of the scene he’d discovered when, while hunting down his missing informant in Afghanistan six years ago, he’d barged in on Sokolov molesting the informant’s wife. As Ian described the scene, his eyes met hers meaningfully. Leah tried not to recall the one, drunken night she and Vincente had had sex. Now she understood the nonexistent chemistry between them: apparently a consensual relationship wasn’t Vincente’s cup of tea. He preferred his victims unwilling.
Ian ruthlessly peeled back the layers of the man Leah had thought she’d known. His words crawled up her back, making her neck prickle and her ears buzz. She idly wondered what the temperature was in the room, a hundred and ten? She lowered her chin and prayed no one would notice she was no longer paying attention. Black spots danced in her vision and her head dropped so close to the table that her forehead brushed the cool varnished top.
After a moment she felt hands on her shoulders and a voice being spoken from far away. It was difficult to make out the words through the cotton in her ears, but she was pretty sure they belonged to Ian. Her chair was yanked away from the table and he pushed her head between her knees.
“Breathe slowly,” Ian instructed. His voice sounded tinny through the buzzing in her ears. Was she having a panic attack? She scoffed at the idea. Of course she wasn’t. Leah Hannah Parker didn’t have panic attacks. At the DA’s office she’d stared down cold-blooded murderers without so much as a hiccup in her breathing, so she certainly wasn’t freaking out over Vincente goddamn Barry, a man she’d once seen order a skinny margarita.
Appalled at her reaction, Leah forced herself to take in slow breaths through her nose and release them through her mouth. Eventually her vision cleared and she could hear again. When she pushed against Ian’s hand he immediately released the pres
sure but kept his palm cupped around her neck even after she sat up. Everyone was staring at them.
“Well how would you like to found out your ex is a murderer?” she demanded.
Over the computer speakers Erik chuckled.
“Wait, you’re Sokolov’s girlfriend?” Mia asked, her eyes widening. “This just gets better and better. Well, not that it’s good,” she amended hastily, glancing over Leah’s head at Ian. “Just that it’s like a soap or something.”
“Ex-girlfriend,” Leah said forcefully.
“Indeed,” Erik murmured.
“What’s your part in this?” Dag asked her. He appeared as unflappable as a hunk of brick, and Leah wondered what it would take to shock the man.
Ian removed his hand from her neck and rested it on the curved back of her chair. “She helped Sokolov try to kill me.”
There were gasps in the room and Leah caught a flash of murder in Dag’s eyes.
Yup, that would do it.
Chapter 17
“That’s not true!” Leah protested, craning her neck to scowl up at Ian. “I was only there to distract you so Sokolov could kidnap you.”
The silence in the room told her the correction hadn’t made it any better.
Anders turned to Ian. “What the hell is she talking about?”
Ian explained how Sokolov had led Leah to believe he was an ISIS terrorist. There was a visible softening in the team’s attitude toward her when they realized Sokolov had manipulated her. She’d been a fool to trust Sokolov, but she hadn’t set out to deliberately hurt their boss, a man they obviously held in high regard.
“What prompted Sokolov to reveal himself to you?” Dag asked her. It was apparent he was the sort of man who liked to cut to the chase.
Finding Lies Page 9
