The Temptation Trap, Complete Series (An Alpha Billionaire Club BBW Romance) (17 page)

C
haos swirled
around me and I could barely keep up. We were in another safe house, this one belonging to Sinclair Security. It was the polar opposite of the FBI safe house we'd been in the day before. This one was a newer apartment in a nondescript building in a suburb of Las Vegas—nothing special, a generic semi-upscale apartment building with a nice entry and a swimming pool out back. Evers had told me that Sinclair Security owned the apartments on both sides, as well as those above and below, and had wired the building, unbeknownst to the other tenants. They’d know if a mouse squeaked anywhere near the apartment.

On the inside, it had a brand new, upgraded kitchen, a spacious living room, three bedrooms, and a TV—with cable—in every room. I would've loved to be here the day before. Now, I didn't care.

Axel was pacing again and talking on the phone. They’d found their missing guy, Phillips, two houses away, with a severe concussion, a broken leg, and what they thought was a stab wound to one kidney. He was in the ICU, but he was hanging in there. I wished I could do something to comfort Axel. Based on the way he gripped his phone and was wearing a groove in the carpet of the living room, I didn't think there was any way I could help.

He didn't look like he wanted a hug, and it didn't feel like the right time to drag him off to the bedroom for some stress relief. So far, he hadn't told me what we were doing next. It was obvious to all of us that the leak had to be with the FBI.

Evers had told me that Phillips had been the only one on Axel's team who knew precisely where we were. Until we’d needed a pickup, Axel and Evers had disabled tracking on their phones and hadn't told anyone at Sinclair Security where the FBI safe house was. He’d been sure the leak hadn’t come from his team, but Axel wasn’t taking any chances.

Unless Phillips was playing a very deep game by hospitalizing himself, it was nearly impossible for anyone at Sinclair to be the mole. On the other hand, the FBI and everyone working with Agent Tierney knew exactly where we were. Axel's phone had rung several times with calls from Agent Tierney, and Axel hadn't answered.

According to the police band, the fire at the safe house had been reported and the bodies discovered. I was sitting on the couch, clutching a cold mug of tea, waiting to see what was going to happen next. Axel and Evers seemed to have a plan, but no one had bothered to fill me in. Across the room, Axel swore and tossed the phone down on the kitchen island.

"What?” Evers asked.

Axel turned to look at us, anger turning his dark brown eyes black. "I just got confirmation from Billy. The night we went to the Delecta, Tierney called into the control room looking for me, and Alan let our location slip."

My heart sank. I didn't like Agent Tierney very much, but I hadn’t wanted him to be the bad guy. If Agent Tierney was the mole, it went against everything that I believed about the way the world should work. I could accept that my boss—my former boss—was working with the Russian mob. It was a stretch, and it was crazy, but I'd seen the evidence and he’d admitted it to me, so I could believe it was true.

It wasn't hard for me to accept the fact that the Russian mob was involved in dealing guns, drugs, and human beings. I didn't like it, but it fit with everything TV and the news had told me about the mob.

But to find out that the FBI agent I’d trusted with my life was the one selling me out? The one who’d set me up to be killed? Those men had broken into the safe house, killed two FBI agents, and put Axel’s man in the hospital. They would have killed Axel and Evers if they could have. Everyone near me had been marked for death. And then, as if murder weren’t bad enough, they'd set the house on fire. All of that had happened because Agent Tierney of the FBI had told them where to find me.

Nausea rolled in my stomach and I had the horrifying realization that I was going to throw up. Lurching to my feet, I raced to the bathroom, one hand clamped over my mouth. I got there just in time, hitting the marble floor with a jarring slam to my kneecaps, doubling over and losing every bite I’d eaten for dinner.

I heaved into the toilet until my stomach was empty. Then I heaved a little more, as if my body was so shocked it didn’t care that there was nothing to throw up. It still wanted to empty me out. When I was done, I laid my hot cheek on my arm and sat there, still slumped over the toilet seat, trying to catch my breath. A cold sweat had broken out on my forehead, and my mouth wouldn't stop watering.

In my rush to get to the toilet, I hadn’t turned on the light. I sat in the dark, tears dripping down my cheeks, my stomach rolling, threatening to turn itself inside out again. A knock sounded on the bathroom door, then Axel's voice, muffled by the wood, asked, “You okay?"

I wasn’t, and I did not want Axel to come in. As badly as I could use some comfort, I had just thrown up, and I felt disgusting. Not just gross, but sweaty, weak, and shaky.

I could handle this. I had to handle this. I couldn't lose it, not now. There was too much going on. It was dangerous for me to fall apart and be more of a burden than I already was. Axel would take care of me. He’d proven over and over that he would go to any lengths to keep me safe, but I had to do my part. Being scared didn’t mean I could afford to be weak.

Clearing my throat, I said, "I'm okay. I'll be right out."

When I was sure what was left in my stomach was going to stay put, I got to my feet, splashed water on my face, and rinsed the sour taste out of my mouth the best I could without a toothbrush. I left the bathroom and headed straight for the kitchen, wanting a glass of ice cold water.

Axel followed me. "You're sure you're okay?” he asked quietly.

"I'm fine," I said a little too brightly. "So, what now?"

“We’re getting you out of Las Vegas," Axel said.

“We were going to leave anyway, right?” I asked, remembering that we’d planned to go after Summer in a day or two anyway. I was happy to get the hell away from Harper and Tsepov—the sooner the better.

“We were,” Axel said carefully. “But plans have changed.”

I was confused. “I thought we were leaving,” I said, getting nervous when he looked down at his phone, avoiding my eyes.

“We were. Then I got this.” He showed me the screen of his phone.

I don’t want war with you. Give me the girl, and your assurances that you’ll stay out of my business, and I’ll let this go. Let’s meet. Tomorrow.

“Who is that?” I asked, already knowing the answer. “Is it him?”

“It’s Tsepov,” Axel confirmed. “He knows you’re with me. If I stay with you, he’ll use me, and Sinclair Security, to track you. I can’t keep you safe while he’s watching me.”

“So you’re sending me away? Alone?” I knew I sounded pathetic, and the tears spilling down my cheeks didn’t help. I couldn’t stop it, though. Axel had become my rock. How could he send me away?

He set his jaw and shoved his phone back in his pocket. “It’s all been arranged. We have a friend in Atlanta who will watch over you. He isn’t associated with Sinclair Security in any way, but he’s an old friend. We did his system, and his place is as secure as one of our own. You’ll be safe with Jacob.”

“So that’s it? I don’t get a say?”

“Emma,” Axel growled, “I’m trying to keep you alive. Sergey Tsepov wants to meet with me, face to face. I can’t afford to have you anywhere nearby when that happens. I need you gone.”

I tried not to feel like Axel had stabbed me through the heart. I wanted to believe he meant that he wanted me safe and away from any threat. I was sure that was what he meant. But his words scored my heart.
I need you gone.

I wasn’t a fool. If Axel thought I needed to get out of town, I’d go. I wanted to stay alive, with or without Axel at my side.

An hour later, I was boarding a small plane, a duffel bag in each hand, with the sun rising in the sky at my back. To my surprise, Griffen was waiting for me, a can of soda in his hand. He pulled the door closed and pushed me in the direction of a seat, taking my bags and stowing them in the back of the plane.

“Put your chair back and get some sleep, Emma,” he said. “Everything is going to be okay.”

I didn’t believe him. Without Axel, nothing was okay.

I
would have sworn
that there was no way I could fall asleep on the plane as we taxied down the runway and lifted off into the air, leaving the bright lights of Las Vegas behind. Leaving Axel behind. I was too keyed up. My chest was tight with anxiety, a sour knot was lodged in my stomach, and I was off-balance without Axel by my side.

Having Griffen there was a comfort, but as nice as he was, it wasn't the same as being with Axel. Once we were in the air, Griffen got up, went to the front of the plane, and came back with a drink. Handing it to me, he said, “Rum and Coke. You need to relax. It’s going to be a long flight."

I didn't protest. A rum and Coke wouldn't have been my drink of choice at that moment, but I didn't argue and I drank it down in one shot. Griffen had mixed a strong drink. Not too long after I finished it, with the alcohol to relax me, my eyelids began to droop. Griffen took a blanket down from a storage compartment and handed it to me, saying, “Get some sleep. It's going to be a long flight."

"What will happen when we get there?" I asked, unfolding the blanket and wrapping it around my body, tucking myself into the plush seat.

"What did Axel tell you?” Griffen asked.

“Just that he needed to get me out of town and that it wasn't safe to be near him now that Tsepov was paying him so much attention. He said he was sending me to a friend. I can't remember his name."

"Jacob Meyers."

"You know him?” The way Griffen had said his name felt more businesslike than someone talking about a friend.

“By reputation," Griffen said. "But I do know he went to school with the Sinclairs, and they've all known each other practically since the cradle. Jacob is in real estate. From what I've heard, he owns a good chunk of Atlanta, on top of developments all over the southeast. Sinclair Security set up his building, which is also where he lives, and it's one of the most secure places in Atlanta outside of the Sinclair properties. It's known that Jacob is friends with the Sinclairs, but he's not a business associate. He's not in security or protection, so it's unlikely that Tsepov or the FBI will look for you there. Sending you to Jacob is the safest Axel can make you right now."

“Okay," I said. It wasn't okay. I didn't want to go to Jacob Meyers, whoever he was. I wanted to be with Axel. But I wasn't a child, and I knew by now that I couldn't always have my way. Axel wanted me safe. This was the best way he thought he could protect me, and I wouldn't argue about it.

That didn't mean I had to like it. More than going to a stranger, what I really hated was leaving Axel behind with Tsepov. The thought of Axel—my Axel—sitting down with a killer and playing a game with him, when everything I'd heard about Sergey Tsepov was that you didn't play games with that man, froze my heart.

If something happened to Axel, I didn't think I could stand it, especially if it happened because he was protecting me. The thought of Axel close to the Russian mobster had my stomach rolling. I took a deep breath, grasping for calm. I had to hold it together. I had to be strong. When all of this was over, I was going to curl up and have a big, long cry. But not yet. Not until everyone I loved was safe.

Even after a strong rum and Coke, I didn't think I could fall asleep. I must have, because I opened my eyes what felt like days later to the sound of voices—Griffen’s familiar voice, and another, a man who spoke in clipped sentences, his voice smooth and deep.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and heard Griffen say, "I have to go, Emma. Jacob’s here. He’ll take care of you. Listen to what he says and be careful."

He was gone before I could force my eyes open. I struggled to sit up, tangled in the blanket. When I pushed it down to my waist and opened my eyes, I was confronted with the sight of a stranger. He sat in the seat opposite mine with his elbows braced on his knees, studying my face with arresting silver eyes framed with thick black lashes.

I blinked the sleep out of my eyes, trying to take in his sudden appearance. Now that I was alert, or at least conscious, he rose out of his leaning position and held out a hand.

“Jacob Meyers," he said. “It’s nice to meet you, Emma Wright.”

He was polite but not flirtatious, and I was head over heels for Axel Sinclair. Still, as Jacob Meyers shook my hand, I felt myself blush. There was something overwhelming about him. I could tell from the way he filled the airplane seat that he was tall, with broad shoulders and a body that looked fit beneath his perfectly cut charcoal suit.

His eyes were a shade that could only be called silver. Too light to be gray and without a hint of blue, they were magnetic. His hair was dark, almost black, and he wore it a little too long, curling around his ears and the back of his neck. A chunk fell down over his forehead and I wanted to brush it back. Idly, with my brain still waking up, I wondered how many women had that same urge. Taking in Jacob Myers's confidence and self-assurance, I bet all of them. He looked like a man who was used to handling the attention of women.

I broke eye contact and stood up, folding the blanket to keep my hands busy as I asked, “So what do we do now? Axel didn't tell me much."

Jacob followed my lead and stood up as well, bending forward a little in the compact airplane cabin. "I'm going to take you back to my place," he said. "I can bring you in through the underground garage—I had the cameras temporarily shut down. No one will know where you are. No one will see you come in, and there won’t be a record of your entering the building. You’ll stay in my penthouse until Axel gives us the all-clear. We'll let Axel and Evers do what they have to do, and hopefully, you won't be under house arrest for too long."

“All right," I said. None of it was really all right, but I didn't have a better suggestion. I was a human resources director. I wasn’t going to try to out-think the security experts.

I followed Jacob to the door of the plane. A small flight of stairs led from the airplane door down to the tarmac. Just in front of the base of the stairs, I saw a cargo van, the kind used for deliveries, though this one had no writing or logo on the side. It was newish and clean, plain white, with nothing to distinguish itself—completely generic and unnoticeable.

Jacob gave me a hand as I climbed in the back. I was surprised to see carpeted benches along the walls. They didn't look comfortable, but they were better than sitting on the floor. My two bags were already waiting for me. At the sight of those duffel bags, familiar and reminding me of Axel, my eyes teared up.

I missed him. Jacob seemed nice enough, and if I weren't already Axel's, I would probably be panting after him. He was ridiculously attractive, and he had an air of power I could recognize as seductive even though I no interest in being seduced by him. The childish part of me wanted Jacob to go away and to bring back Axel.

Again, I reminded myself that I was going to have to deal with the situation as it was until things could work themselves out. I took a seat on the side of the van as Jacob closed the doors. He gave a single rap on the plywood wall separating us from the driver before he sat on the bench opposite me. A moment later, the van started up and began to move.

Jacob didn't make conversation on the ride into the city, for which I was grateful. Another time, silence with a stranger might have bothered me, but while still trying to get used to being most of the country away from Axel, I was happier left alone with my thoughts.

I distracted myself with thoughts of the vacation I wanted to take with Axel when all this was over. A luxury cruise? A private island somewhere? Or a cabin in the mountains with a hot tub? I didn't really care as long as I could be alone with Axel, just the two of us, with all of this mess and trouble behind us.

It was a fantasy. Real life had thrown us some major roadblocks in the form of a dirty FBI agent and the Russian mob, not to mention my former boss asking Axel to find me so he could have me killed—but I couldn't do anything about all of that. Focusing on our vacation was more relaxing than stressing over all the things that were out of my control.

I never thought I would miss gathering evidence for the FBI. Every moment of it has been nerve-racking, but at least I’d been doing something positive by moving the case forward. Now, with my part in the case done, all I could do was wait and follow orders. I didn't want to be an operative, or whatever it was that the people who worked for Sinclair Security called themselves. My brief stint as an FBI informant had been enough to tell me it was not the life for me. That didn't mean I was happy being passive.

After a half hour or so, the van took a sharp turn and began to drive downward. Based on our speed and direction, I guessed we were in the parking garage. Good. I was ready to get where we were going and try to settle into yet another strange place. The van parked, but Jacob stayed where he was, holding up a hand to indicate that I should do the same. A few minutes later, a double knock sounded on the cargo door and Jacob stood, holding out his hand for mine. He helped me out of the back of the van, grabbing my two duffel bags with one hand, and led me to an elevator that, like the entry to Axel's office, operated with a hand scanner. The doors to the elevator slid open and Jacob ushered me through.

The inside was a marked contrast to the sophisticated electronics and sleek metal of the exterior. With dark polished wood, gleaming brass buttons and brass detailing on the chair rail, it had an old world elegance I hadn't expected, complete with an oil painting on the back wall. I guess I’d thought it would look more like the brushed steel and black leather of Axel's offices. Jacob pressed a button marked with a barely noticeable
P
. The elevator doors silently slid shut, and the elevator carried us to the top floor of the building.

It opened directly into Jacob’s foyer, revealing a polished hardwood floor and smooth, creamy walls, with heavy crown molding in a soft white. Oil paintings like the one in the elevator were scattered on the walls. A narrow table set against one wall with a stack of mail on top, beside a set of keys. A long-hall lined with white wainscoting led us to the rest of the penthouse.

I followed Jacob and found myself in a wide open space with the kitchen and breakfast area on one side, beside a huge sitting room complete with comfortable looking leather couches and an oversized television. The rooms were filled with polished antiques—except for the television—yet the penthouse managed to be as welcoming as it was elegant and refined.

"I'll show you to your room," Jacob said. I followed him as he turned down another hallway, this one also lined with creamy white wainscoting and oil paintings and the same heavy crown moldings around the ceiling. We passed what looked like a dining room on one side and an office with glass French doors on the other. We turned once more and Jacob opened a door.

“This room is yours for as long as you need it,” Jacob said.

The room was spacious, dominated by an enormous black canopy bed covered with a snow-white duvet and masses of matching white pillows. I’d slept for most of the plane ride, so I wasn't tired anymore, but that bed made me want to crawl in and take a nap. It also made me think of Axel. Then again, these days, most beds made me think of Axel.

Jacob dropped my duffel bags on the floor and turned to face me. "I need to get to work," he said. "There's no phone and no computer. Axel said he's more comfortable if you don't have access to the outside world for now. If you need anything, hit the green button next to the elevator. I’ll get the message and come right up. I’ve got cable, and there are books in the library. Feel free to help yourself."

“Thank you," I said. "I appreciate your helping us out like this."

"Axel is like a brother," he said. "I've known him since before I could walk. There’s nothing I wouldn't do to help him—or his woman—out of a jam." He winked at me, and my knees went a little weak.

Griffen had said that Jacob had gone to school with Axel and his brothers. Recalling that Evers was pretty hot himself, I had a moment of both envy and pity for the girls at their high school. These men were lethally attractive, and they knew it. When they were sixteen, they must have been every girl’s dream and nightmare rolled into one.

Jacob headed for the door, saying over his shoulder, "I'll bring something back for dinner, but if you get hungry, there’s plenty of food in the fridge. Help yourself.” At that, he was gone.

I picked up my bags and decided to unpack. With that chore done and with nothing else to do, I thought I might as well take a shower. A peek in the bathroom revealed what looked like acres of white marble, a gigantic shower, a garden tub, and a long marble counter highlighting the custom glass sink in a delicate sky blue. Gorgeous. I organized my toiletries and decided that the tub was calling my name. At least it would give me something to do while I waited for my life to work itself out.