The Temptation (2 page)

With a groan of frustration, I buzzed up the window then shoved my Glock into my purse. “How the hell did my cover get blown?”

“The snitch who fed you the information was caught by Hagstedt’s—Bachmann’s—men,” Nick said. “They tortured it out of him. I doubt it took long.”

“Damn.” I ground my teeth and sank back against the leather seat. “All of that work for not a damned thing.”

Nick said nothing and then our reality started creeping back in as the adrenaline rush slowly subsided. I looked at him. I couldn’t stop myself from tracing with my gaze the strong lines of his jaw, and every other feature I knew so well. I wanted to feel his stubble beneath the pads of my fingers, slip my hands into his soft hair then move my palms down until I felt the steel of his arms and chest. I wanted to rest my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat.

It was crazy to be having these kinds of thoughts about him when we’d just been chased and shot at. But I’d never been able to help myself around him. Never.

And the truth was, I’d missed him.

He glanced from the street to me and I felt heat rush to every part of my body.

“What are you doing back in Boston?” I asked. “You’ve been gone for six months.”

“I have unfinished business here.” He looked from me to the road. “I have things to settle before I go back to Arizona.”

My heart squeezed. Some stupid part of me had hoped he was back in Boston to stay. I’d driven him away so what reason would he have to care one way or another about me?

I realized my short dress was almost up to my hips and I tugged it down. “How’s Kristen?”

A part of Nick softened, something intangible that I could sense and feel.

“Better.” He glanced at me. “Small town life in Bisbee has been healing. She’s not afraid to go out in public alone anymore and she’s gaining some of her confidence back.”

“That’s good.” I felt a measure of relief for Kristen. “How has her self-defense training gone?”

“She took to it like nothing I’ve ever seen before and she practices for hours every day.” The corner of his mouth almost turned up in a smile. “I think she could do some damage to any bastard who would try to hurt her.”

“I pray that she’ll never need to use her new skills,” I said.

Nick didn’t reply and I glanced out of the window and saw that we were almost to my apartment in Southie. I hadn’t been paying attention and didn’t realize we were so close.

My palms started to burn and I realized that I had gotten some glass in them when I was on my hands and knees in the nightclub’s kitchen.

We reached the egg yolk-yellow trip—short for triple-decker—that housed my apartment. He parked and shut off the engine.

I don’t know what possessed me, but I said, “Do you want to come up? I have some Guinness in the fridge.”

He studied me for a long moment then gave a nod. A flutter in my belly told me that this wasn’t a good idea. But since when did I listen to my head with it came to Nick Donovan?

I climbed out of the black Explorer after glancing at the spider webbed window and realized for the first time just how close I’d come to being shot. Nick had saved my ass more than once tonight.

We walked side-by-side to the trip and I unlocked the door that opened into the hallway and shut the door behind me. We headed up the stairs to the second floor and I realized my hands were shaking a little as I stuck the key in the lock and turned it.

A sliver of embarrassment went through me at what a mess my apartment was and then I forced it away. I wasn’t normally embarrassed by my home and lack of perfect housekeeping. Take me as I am.

Nick, Mr. Neat Freak, had been to my place more times than I could count when we were together and he’d never once said anything about the perpetual mess. He had always accepted me for me, one of the things I loved about him.

Love. That’s what had driven us apart.

Love was something I couldn’t feel again, and that wouldn’t be fair to him. He hadn’t seen it that way.

I turned on the light and he shut the door behind us. A package of pecan sandies rested on an end table while an empty pizza box was front and center on the coffee table. Next to it was a Guinness bottle. Clothes were scattered over a chair including my purple panties and matching bra that were draped over it. Hell, I hadn’t expected company tonight.

Tiny shivers skittered along my skin as he took my hands and I almost jerked them away, afraid of what might happen when he touched me. But he was looking at my hands. I glanced down and saw the blood and cuts on my palms. They burned and so did my knees.

“Damn, Steele.” His eyes met mine. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” I tugged my hands away from his and turned to walk into my kitchen. Prickles ran up and down my spine as I felt his gaze on me. I went to the sink and started picking out the glass.

“Let me.” He moved me aside, stood in front of me, and took my hands again.

I wanted to argue but his touch was doing something to me. It was melting me, making me want so much from him. At that moment I could hardly think straight from all of the desire and longing I had bottled up inside me over the past months.

Shouldn’t have asked him to come up, Lexi. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

He finished picking out the glass then rinsed my palms under the water. His touch was firm yet gentle. He released my hands then looked at my knees. I looked, too, almost bumping his head with mine.

“Sit.” He took me by the arm and pushed me down into a chair at my small kitchen table, then crouched in front of me. Not as many cuts were on my knees as had been on my palms.

Normally I wouldn’t let a man tell me what to do in any way. But something about Nick tonight had me obeying and doing whatever he wanted me to do. I wanted to reach out and touch his soft dark hair, run my fingers through the strands as he paid attention to my knees. He removed what little glass there was and wiped the cuts with a clean dishcloth.

When he was finished and had tossed all of the glass shards, he came back to me. I could only watch him, my heart in my throat. He took me by my wrist and brought me to my feet.

“I missed you, Lexi.” His voice was rough. He didn’t call me Steele like he normally did. In the past he’d only used Lexi when we were intimate.

“Nick—” I started to tell him to stop when he jerked me toward him and brought his mouth down hard on mine.

The moment he kissed me, all coherent thought took flight. I couldn’t get enough of him. Couldn’t get enough of the taste of him, the feel of his hands on me, his warm masculine scent. My mind felt like it was spinning and I knew I’d lost complete control. Hell, I’d lost control the moment I saw him tonight.

His hands felt familiar and warm as he moved them from my shoulders to my waist and the curve of my hips. He brought me tight to him and I felt his hard length pressed against my belly. His desire clearly matched my own.

I slid my arms around his neck, kissing him with all the pent up passion that had been building inside me for so long. I hadn’t even realized the power of it until that moment.

My breathing grew heavier, my nipples tight against the soft material of my dress. I moved my hands from around his neck as he kissed me and spread my palms over his chest before easing them down to the button of his jeans.

He caught my hands in his as he broke the kiss, keeping me from going any further.

“We have to stop.” He searched my gaze as confusion swept through me. “Unless you’re willing to give me your heart, I can’t do this, Lexi.”

I stared at him. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Can’t and won’t are two different things.” His jaw tightened. He took me by my shoulders. “I thought that giving you some time and space might help you realize that we have more going on between us than just sex.”

I looked away from him. “I’m damaged goods, Nick. I’m broken inside.”

He caught my face in his hands. “You are not, and it’s time you got that through your thick head.”

I wanted so much to believe him, but I didn’t. I couldn’t.

I’d been an assassin. I’d killed people I didn’t know and didn’t have any idea if they’d been good or bad. It hadn’t been my choice, but I had done what I was ordered to do. Because I had to.

“Why are you here?” I asked as he moved his hands away from my face. “You didn’t come back for me.”

His eyes darkened. “Hagstedt. Or Bachmann. Whatever the hell he’s called now.”

I gave a slow nod. Bachmann was the reason why I couldn’t sleep at night. It used to be the horrors of my past. Now it was because of the horrors that Bachmann put innocent victims through every day of their lives. When I’d finally come face to face with him, I hadn’t been able to take him down.

Nick took a step away from me, putting cool distance between us. “I’ll see you Monday at HQ.”

“Are you working for RED again?” I asked as he turned away.

“I never stopped.” He looked over his shoulder as he grasped the doorknob. “See you Monday.” He opened the door and paused, as if he was going to say something else. But then he walked out and shut the door firmly behind him.

Chapter 3

Karl Bachmann, aka Anders Hagstedt

Karl Bachmann paced the length of the hotel suite as John, his government puppet, watched. Karl’s mind churned, his head ached. His limp from the bullet he’d taken to the thigh was exacerbated by his anger.

He could almost feel the huge shards of glass shredding his features. He’d been forced to undergo plastic surgery to give him a new face—to repair the damage and to avoid ever being recognized. His formerly shattered hand ached when he clenched it into a fist.

He’d been double-crossed. Betrayed. His life ruined.

Someone in the U.S. Government had been responsible for his house of cards crumbling into dust. Someone had been responsible for the fortune he’d lost. For the loss of his identity, his wealth. Everything was gone now because he’d been betrayed.

“I was one of the most powerful and influential men in Switzerland,” Karl said to John in a snarl. “I owned a well known ski chalet and a popular chocolate factory and had millions in the bank.” He’d also run a popular sex slave business locally beneath his ski chalet and he’d owned personal sex slaves throughout the years. He’d used the young men and women then discarded them depending on whether or not he tired of them or they’d grown too old. “Your people ruined my life.”

More important than all of his other businesses, was a business so profitable it outclassed everything else—he’d run a worldwide sex slave organization that had made him millions. His sex slave trade in the States had been one of his most profitable ventures.

Now almost everything was gone.

Everything but this one last venture. It had been a safety net so that he had influence in the U.S. Government just in case he needed it.

And now he needed it.

He clenched his hands into fists and ground his teeth.

John looked scared but like he was trying to hide it. He very well should be frightened.

People who should have protected him were going to die or their lives would be completely ruined. The woman…his scowl magnified as he thought about the brunette. She would die a slow and painful death.

“I want to know why I was double-crossed and targeted.” Karl said in a harsh voice, his Swedish accent strong. “My business was to be protected. For that my services would be availed to those in government who wanted them.”

John said nothing, as if he was too frightened to speak.

“I’ll make sure careers and lives are ended if you don’t take care of this immediately.” Karl shook with rage. “Bender. Ackerson. Mackie. Jones. Eckstrom. Their lives will be as ruined as mine is.”

John’s throat worked as he swallowed. Karl had just named some of the biggest men in government.

Karl picked up a photograph on his desk of the short brunette whore before he continued. “One in particular is the woman.” He looked over the photograph of the bitch who had helped to ruin him. Not that long ago she had infiltrated his New York sex slave organization and when she’d located him, it had brought down his house of cards. Now his true identity was known and his former life was lost to him forever. His money, his power, his prestige—all of it gone.

“Now that she’s been identified,” Karl said, “I want her because she was responsible for tracking me down, shattering my hand, and ultimately for the damage done to my face.” He flung the photograph back on the desk. “It was her fault that little Chinese slut got a hold of that vase. The Steele bitch will pay with her life. I want her now.”

John visibly flinched from the anger in Karl’s voice. “I’ll do whatever I can.”

“You will do better than that.” Karl pointed his finger at John. He didn’t give a shit that John held a high position in the U.S. Government other than how it would best benefit Karl’s last remaining enterprise and his future. “You will have her brought to me and I will kill her myself.”

“Yes, sir.” John gave a single nod. “I’ll make sure it’s done.”

“And I will take care of those responsible for not shielding me,” Karl said. “Did you think I would simply stand around and put up with the incompetence I’ve witnessed?”

John shook his head. “No, of course not.”

Karl resisted throwing one of the hotel’s crystal lamps at the wall across the room. Seeing the crystal shatter and score the wall would give him only a small measure of satisfaction.

He stopped pacing and gave John a steely glare. “Remember this—if I go down, everyone goes down.” Karl paused for emphasis. “I can take you down so fast that you’ll end up in prison for life.”

John’s features grew pale.

“I have compromising pictures of every single man involved and extensive blackmail files. No one has been left out.” Karl paused for emphasis. “Including you.”

Karl had the urge to laugh at the fear written across John’s face. It was perfect how corruptible the men were whom he’d brought into his fold.

“I will not hesitate to kill to protect myself and this venture.” Karl stared at John with biting anger in his chest. “The lives of your men in your pitiful government mean nothing to me.”