Twisted Desire (The Twisted Series) (11 page)

Harley eases his bike down her driveway.  He lets them
roll to the curb, and he watches in his mirror until the door presses shut
behind them, before pulling away from the house in a flurry of speed.  The
wind is chilled, but it feels good in her hair.  He feels good in her
arms.  Believe it or not, she feels like she could get used to this.

When they reach Riley’s parking lot, he stops a few spaces
away from her yellow BMW.  It’s the only car in the lot.

“Before you go, don’t you think we should settle the terms
of this date?”

“Date?”  She can’t believe he’s actually asking her out
after last night.  “I don’t date.  Been there.  Tried
that.  A monstrous waste of time, if you ask me.”

“Alright then, I won’t call it a date.  Dinner sound
okay?  You have to eat.  I can pick you up…”

“No.  If you pick me up, then that would make it a
date.”

“Then I’ll meet you there.”

“Fine,” she snaps, like she really doesn’t want to. 
Unfortunately, the look on her face tells another story.

“Orlando’s at six.”  He winks at her, and he’s smiling
when she slips inside her car.

She settles into the driver’s seat to hide behind the dark
tint of her windows.  Harley doesn’t know it, but her eyes follow his exit
like a moth to a flame.  When he disappears around the corner, she sits
there for a moment and tries to collect herself.  A glance in her
rear-view mirror has her inspecting the rosy quality affecting her cheeks.

This is new. 
And she’s not even sure that she
likes it.

Harley leaves the lot before Aliah even has her key in the
ignition.  But he doesn’t get far before he turns down an alleyway and
rolls to a stop.  He turns his bike around, remaining seated, and walks it
back up to the edge of the tall building to wait for some indication of where
she is heading.

He already hates where this is going.  He’d tugged her
back in her house and had gone against the one rule he had set for himself… no
topping out.  After relenting so shamelessly he should have felt
guilty.  All he felt was satisfaction.  He’d claimed her.  It
was written all over her face.  She is as good as his, if he wants her.
 Does
he want her?

His employability relies on strict confidentiality.  He
has a job to do.  His latest client, the one with the overactive jealousy
and violent temper, is the last person he needs to be pissing off right
now.  He has to finish this job.  It’s not like he believes that
Aliah is guilty.  And even if she is, he refuses to let one little hussy
take him down.

He’s met chicks like her before.  Well, maybe not
anyone
quite
like her.  She’s not exactly an endangered species
though.

Harley wishes he could just throw her back to the wolves,
but he can’t stop thinking about how perfect Aliah looked straddled on the bike
and how good she felt behind him.  He’d asked her out.  On a
date.  And she’s outright denied him.  He’s never asked a woman out
before.  Never.  But something has him forcing the issue with
Aliah.  He wants to woo those sassy shoes right off her.

Aliah’s car passes in a flash.  She drives so quickly
that he almost misses her flying by.  He turns into traffic and maintains
a safe distance behind her, having to travel a lot faster than he usually would
in rush hour traffic.  He watches her turn into a parking lot and examines
her every move.

She rushes the front door of a lawyer’s office, Bailey &
Miller LLP.  It’s only the top law firm in the City.  Joshua Bailey
happens to be the most renowned criminal defence lawyer north of Toronto. 
Harley wonders what kind of trouble she has gotten herself into.  He can
only imagine.  It’s no wonder she’s lied about where she was going.

Harley drives right past the lawyers’ office and heads
straight to work, skipping home for a fresh change of clothes.  He loves
the scent of her on him.  He’ll have a pleasant day.  After
collecting himself, which is rather difficult when he can still taste her on
his lips, he decides to spend the better part of his morning finding all the
dirt he can on Miss Aliah Brooklin.

That is, after all, what he is hired to do.

Jillian takes a step into Harley’s office before she
realizes he has crashed behind his computer monitors.  “Eh hem!” 
Jillian makes a dramatic sound, artificially clearing her throat to get his
attention.

Harley jolts awake, looking like hell.  “Oh.  Hey,
Jillian.  I must have nodded off.”

“I’d say.  She must be keeping you busy.”

“Who?  Oh.  Her.  Right.”  He tries to
act ignorant, but he can sense that Jillian’s reaction to his sleeplessness is
rather peculiar.

That’s too bad for her.  It’s not against the law to
have sex with a beautiful willing woman, even if he might have a
minor
conflict of interest in the matter.

Jillian tries to hide her impatience, but fails.  “Any
luck?”

She must be referring to the investigation.  He doubts
she cares to hear how exactly he got lucky.

“Not exactly.”  Harley clears his throat, squirming in
his seat, as his body rises at the mere thought of Aliah’s silky soft
skin.  He wonders how he can work around the truth without lying to his
trusted assistant.  “She’s a handful, that one.”

“I bet.”  Jillian’s clearly annoyed with him. 
“What’s the plan now?  Do you need me to scoop her cell phone? 
Because I will.”

“No, no.  Nothing like that.  I don’t actually
believe the girl is guilty.  Ms. Hawkins might just be one with an
overactive imagination.”

“What?”  Jillian’s face is painted with scepticism.
 Her voice turns snappy.  “You’ve never given the suspect benefit of
the doubt before.  Why start now?”

Aliah Brooklin.

He clears his throat again, as if Jillian might have heard
his thoughts.  “I just have a feeling about this one.”

Jillian takes a step closer and stares at his crotch, but
there’s no way she knows his dick is still twitching just talking about
her.  “A feeling, hmm?”  She props her hands on her hips, slouches to
one side and stares at the crotch of his jeans.  “I think you should quit
thinking with your other head and concentrate on getting the deal closed. 
I mean it, David.  Get it together.”

He waves her off, as her eyes meet his.  Since when did
Jillian give him a pep talk?  He wonders how invested she is in the outcome
of this investigation.  He kicks his boots up onto the desk to remind her
who’s the boss here.

“You’re way off base.  I haven’t found even a smidgen
of evidence against her.  It’s not the girl’s fault that Cavanagh looks at
her a certain way.  Last I checked, it’s no crime to wear sexy shoes and
flash a little cleavage every now and then.”

Jillian seems to soften to his easygoing attitude. 
“I’ll have to remember that.”  She smiles, a little too intrigued by the
idea.  “Maybe I’ll give it a try tonight.  Some friends invited me to
join them at Riley’s.  Want to join us?”

Every time she asks, Harley gives her the same answer. 
But she keeps on asking anyway.

“I would.  But I actually have a thing.”

“David H. Gates.  Don’t tell me no lies.  Do you
have a date?”

His expression remains deadpan.  “Something like that.”

“Why don’t you bring her too?  I’d love to meet the
girl.”

“I appreciate the offer, Jillian.  I really do. 
But I don’t think I’ll be dressed for the part tonight.”

Jillian is not giving up.  “What do you mean? 
Riley’s hardly has a dress code.”

“I know.  But I’d feel a little out of place wearing a
suit past five.”

“A suit?  Oh, you’re pulling out all the stops for this
one.  I’m jealous.”

He raises his brow, wondering why she continues to flirt
with him after all these years.  “Don’t be.  It’s nothing special.”

Jillian lifts both of her brows in a dramatic display to the
contrary.  “You in a suit?  That’s pretty special in its own right.”

She pauses, and seems to think better than to carry on with
the swooning.  “If you change your mind, stop on over for a drink.”

Harley nods his head, but he has no intention of bringing
Aliah there.  He has a date.  A date.  That’s what he’s calling
it because that’s what it is.  No one spends a plate at Orlando’s on
someone other than a date.  Aliah has to know that.  Since she’s
agreed to dinner with him, but not
a date
, then what is she looking
for?  A good fuck?  He certainly hopes so.

His dick suggests he’s doing the right thing, and he seems
to agree at this time.  In reality, he’s on business.  He shouldn’t
be fucking around with the suspect, even if she is one smoking hot chick. 
But he wants her, from those high heels to her potty mouth.  And he isn’t
against flashing a wad of cash, if that’s what he has to do to impress her.

Jillian is right.  He’s ready to pull out the big guns
for this one.  And, for the first time in his life, he’s looking forward
to it.

When the clock strikes five, most of the staff rush out of
the office.  Everyone bolts early on a Monday night.  But not
Aliah.  Not tonight.

Bailey had just dropped a stack of files on her desk ten
minutes earlier, and every last one of them had been called to the docket for
Tuesday.  Bailey needs the files ready for tomorrow at nine.  She
really doesn’t have much of a choice in the matter.  There is no one
else.  Just her and Bailey and a stack of files for four.

Bailey peeks his head back inside her cubicle.  “You’re
sure you don’t mind working late tonight?  You know I hate doing this to
you, but it really is an emergency.”

She knows how important it is to Bailey that these matters
be heard tomorrow.  She bites her tongue and smiles.  “I can do
it.  It shouldn’t take too long.”

That was an understatement.  She had quit looking at
the clock at six.  She knows there is no way she can make dinner with
Harley now.  Maybe it’s best this way.

Bailey offers to order takeout at seven.  “It’s the
least I can do.”

She can’t even imagine eating a bite, while dreaming about
the meal she has missed.  “No thanks.  I’m not hungry.”

She ignores the food when it arrives and finishes her work.

“I think that’s it.”  She drops the files on Bailey’s
desk.  “Why don’t you take a quick look and make sure there isn’t
something I’ve missed?”

“No, no.  You go on.  I can take it from here.”

“You’re sure?  Because I don’t mind staying a little
longer.”

“It’s after 8:30, Aliah.”  Bailey swallows a mouthful
of food before continuing.  “I’ve already ruined your night.”

You have no idea.

“You get on out of here,” he insists.  “And don’t
bother to come in until after lunch tomorrow.”

Her smile is genuine.  “Thanks.  But you don’t
have to do that.”

“I insist.  You’ll be paid for your time.  No more
fussing.  Now get lost.”  He waves a hand to shoo her away.