Sweet Seduction Stripped (19 page)

The nausea was back and that just made me think of Jaxon and what he had done. Hadn't done? Ah, dammit. I was still so fucking confused.

Where was Ric? I glanced around the small room, knowing he wasn't there but somehow thinking he'd appear. Because I needed him. He'd always appeared when I needed him in the past. Why wasn't he appearing now?

"I could really use your help, Ms Lane," the detective said, drawing my attention back to him. "I thought I knew something and it turns out I was wrong. But for the life of me, I can't believe this new reality. It doesn't work."

Welcome to my world.

I just tilted my head slightly and raised an eyebrow. I was not going to speak unless he provided me with a lawyer. I knew my rights.

Those were my rights, right?

"I don't like your boyfriend," he said evenly. Unaware he'd made my pulse spike even higher.

Boyfriend. That nausea was rising up my throat.

"I think he's a very evil man," he added. "I think you know this. I think that's why you ran. Correct?"

I didn't move a muscle.

"Give me something to work with here, Amber," he said, as though we were friends and he was simply asking for my help with a difficult mate. A mate who was apparently a high-functioning psychopath and was off limits to the cops.

I was tired. I hadn't eaten for what felt like days. I was sore all over. Inside and out. But most of all my heart was aching and I was too scared to acknowledge the real reason why. I felt sick. I wanted nothing more than to curl up under the covers and pretend this new world didn't exist.

"He threatened my father," I said. The only thing I could think of to make this man understand. "He put a bomb in Sweet Seduction," I added, thinking maybe if he knew Jaxon had used the bomb as a coercion he'd realise that's why I transferred those funds. "He hit me," I managed to say, but the detective was already talking and I think missed that last one.

"What do you know about the bomb?"

"I saw the counter. On his computer."

"He activated it remotely from his office computer?" he confirmed. I nodded. "And you were there?"

Oh, I didn't like that last statement. There'd been fire behind his eyes. Judgement, I think.

I lifted my chin, uncrossed my arms and leaned forward - into the danger zone - and glared at the man.

"I deactivated it," I said in a low, quiet voice. Even to me it sounded pissed off. "I spent precious minutes locating each and every single remote code he had linked to the bomb to ensure he couldn't reactivate it again. Minutes I could have used to escape. I sacrificed my chance of getting away to protect those people.
Me
. So, don't you damn well sit there with your superior attitude and judge me, Detective. I was so shit scared, but I didn't run. Because he would have done it. He'd already hit the button once."

The cop just looked at me, scratching at his bed contemplatively.

"You good with computers, Amber?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Really good, I hear."

I threw my hands up and sat back sullenly in my chair. He wasn't listening. He'd already decided what side of the line I stood on. He'd condemned me before he even met me. Because of the person I'd chosen to bed.

This was useless. I'd turned to Ric for help because I had no one else. And I'd failed to see the danger before it was too late. ASI were the good guys, all right. I didn't doubt it. But unfortunately I no longer was. I was considered the enemy and I didn't have the strength left to fight that injustice.

"Do you think you'd be able to..." he started to say, but the door crashed open and suddenly there he was. Ric.

God alone knows where he'd been. But he was back and immediately my world was right again. Everything so much easier to face. I even thought I might be able to battle the detective a little longer, if Ric remained at my side.

I shouldn't have needed him like that. But the simple, undeniable truth was, I did.

"Eric?" the cop asked.

But Ric's eyes were on me. Hadn't moved in fact. And I'd failed until that second to realise what they said. Anger. Rage, in fact. A boiling mass of fury behind livid green.

I wanted to shrink away, but I'd literally had enough. I felt myself retreat inside, some part of me just shut itself down and shored up the walls. I couldn't do this yo-yoing anymore. I couldn't handle the mixed emotions. The extreme sensations of fear and joy, angst and exhilaration, agony and heartache.

I just couldn't.

"Shaw?" the cop snapped, waiting for Eric to acknowledge him.

Ric lifted up a cellphone, I realised it was mine.

"Phone call for you," he said, walking the short distance towards me, his limp more pronounced than before.

He held the device out and I knew, just
knew
, I did not want to take it. I crossed my arms and lifted my gaze to his eyes.

There it was. Pain. He was in such awful pain. But I couldn't tell exactly why.

"Who is it?" I asked, knowing but stalling. My usual tactic.

The stretch of silence was too long, and really, not nearly long enough.

Finally, Ric said, voice rough like sandpaper, "Harding."

I flinched. Not from surprise; I'd guessed. But from the way Ric had snarled his name.

"You need to take the call, Amber," the cop said. "On speaker phone, please." It wasn't a request.

My eyes flicked to his. The brown softened. He understood. I turned slowly back to Ric, still holding that fucking phone out. And his suffering swamped me.

"I don't want to," I whispered and Ric slowly closed his eyes as though he couldn't take any more.

Then, thank you God, thank you. He sat down beside me, reached for my good hand and wrapped his palm carefully around it, fingers lacing with mine. Then he placed the phone purposefully on the table in front of me.

"I'm right here, Dancer," he said, voice scratchy.

"You won't leave?" I asked, giving way too much away.

"Fuck me," he murmured. "Sweetheart." Again such torment. "Are you sure you want me to stay?"

What did that mean? Was he scared of what he'd hear Jaxon say? Did he think I would feel
ashamed? Well yes, I would. But I needed him more than I needed to avoid embarrassment, guilt and my shame.

"Yes, I'm sure," I replied, steadily.

Then before he could argue, or say something else that would just confuse me further, I reached forward and hit the button on the phone that removed the mute function, placing it on speaker for the room at large to hear.

Then swallowing down my terror-filled angst, I said, "Jaxon." And waited for my world to explode all over again.

Ah, fuck. She wouldn't look at me like that, she wouldn't
want
me like that, if she knew what I had done. The horror on her face when she'd remembered that picture of Harding - a fucking picture mirroring the one inside my fucking head - shredded my heart, tore the shit right outta the thing.

And yet, when I walked into this room, her face lit up like a bloody Christmas tree; warm, bright, glowing and so fucking beautiful it made my heart ache in an entirely different way.

She wanted me. But she did not know me. Not the real me. The one that haunts my dreams and fucks with my mind. The me I fear is too close to her ex.

When she finds out, she'll run.

Just like she ran from him.

I couldn't face that. I'd barely gotten to know the girl. No more than forty-eight hours since I laid eyes on her on a computer screen for the first time. Saw more of her than the incredibly talented hacker she let me know for the past three years. But she'd already seeped beneath my skin. Already burrowed her way inside. And it had nothing to do with how gorgeous she was, how full of life; so young, so vital, so precious, so sweet.

It had nothing to do with sex, and those long legs I kept picturing around my hips. Those tits and the way they jiggled beneath me as I stroked my cock inside her, one hard, long, hot pump after another. The sounds she made as she came, the look in those delectable chocolate brown eyes. The way she smiled when she floated down from heaven as the climax slowly subsided.

It had nothing at all to do with any of that.

And yet, it had
everything
to do with all of that.

Amber Lane was mine. Pure and simple. She was my hacker. My on-line friend. The woman I couldn't stop fantasising about. The one who made me come without the necessity of pain.

The second time we'd done it, in the safe room, carpet burning her back, my thrusts pushing her harder and harder into the solid floor beneath her, all I'd felt was euphoria. A type of bliss I had forgotten existed. The type of ecstasy you think is a lie, a falsehood. Something others tell you about just to make them feel better about themselves. It couldn't possibly be real.

But it was. And Amber had shown me. Woken me up from my pity party, drawn me out into the brightness of her touch. The sensation of her warmth, the wet welcome of her tight pussy. That smooth skin, those soft lips, those curves and long legs and trim waist and supple limbs.

She is perfection, and I know I am not.

If she knew what I'd done, she'd run. And I am not sure I am gentleman enough to let her. Harding knows this feeling. The deep seated, undeniable sensation of longing. A type of possession you would die for. A desire that rules your every thought. He knows it. He's tasted it. And now he's on the phone waiting to make a play for it.

He will not win. I may lose also, but there is a part of me who, rightly or wrongly, would never let a man like him near my Dancer ever again. It sickens me, this need. If I can't have her, no one can. It's wrong. I have no right. And yet looking at her now, chewing on that bottom lip as she stares at the phone on the table and contemplates the horror of what Harding will say and do, I know I will walk into the darkest of abysses, I will sell my soul and deal with the devil, I will be everything I despise in a man, because I  cannot let her walk away.

I can not.

Ben had said the difference between obsession and possession was that one was a fixation with something you couldn't have and the other was the ownership of something given freely.

I give my heart and soul to Amber. Right here, right now. In this room with Pierce watching and Harding listening, I give my God-damn heart and soul.
Everything
I am, is hers.

If she would only take it.

But I know, once
she
knows, she will not accept the gift I give her. And like Harding I will become obsessed.

The ache in my chest actually made it hard to breathe. The sting in my eyes angered me, it was so fucking pathetic. The need growing stronger deep down inside scared me half to death.

I felt dangerous. I felt out of control. I felt... ashamed. Again.

Amber looked at the phone as though it was a rattlesnake about to strike, then sucked in a deep breath of air and reached forward to hit the mute button, putting the call on speaker.

My eyes lifted to Pierce's, I don't know why, they just did. His were already on me. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, he had that poker face of his on. But the fact that he was studying me at all was enough to know he'd seen through the act and had my measure.

Well, fuck him. Fuck them all. This is me. This is the man they have never seen but has always lived right under my skin. Right behind the jokes and humour. The wit they so enjoy. The intellect that keeps them safe. The calming voice they hear in their earpieces while on a job.

This. Is. Me.

"Jaxon," Amber said, voice steady, chin lifted, pulse thundering on the side of her neck.

"Baby," he purred and it took everything I had not to growl in reply. "Baby, I've missed you so much. Please," he pleaded in that deep rumble that women no doubt found appealing but set my hackles standing on end. "Please come back, I need you."

Silence. She didn't reply. I looked at her face, saw heartache and indecision warring with confusion and agony.

Then I simply reached forward and disconnected the call.

The buzz in my ears was undoubtedly the rush of blood through my veins, but a good portion of it was also Pierce yelling, Nick shouting as he stormed in the door from the viewing room where he'd been watching and listening, and Amber asking me something I couldn't decipher, her lips moving, her eyes wide and concerned, right in front of my face.

Ah, damn it.

Possession meet obsession and say hello to fucked-up.

"What the fuck, Shaw?" Nick was yelling.

"Well, that's just fucking great," the detective chimed in.

"Are you out of your mind?" Jason demanded. The room quickly becoming over crowded and too loud and way too testosterone filled.

"How the hell are we going to get anything out of the man if you keep acting like a Neanderthal?" Nick asked, still yelling.

Ric just looked mad. I mean, really mad. The kind of insane that could snap at any second and take the entire building with them. And for some reason I wasn't scared.

His head started shaking, his hands clenched in fists at his side, his eyes narrowed and darkened, making the usual bright green seem mired in shadows of black.

"I'm not letting her go through that," he whispered. Somehow timing the comment when all the men in the room were inhaling for their next rant. His words sounding louder than he'd made them, due to the tense silence that followed and the rage that rolled off him like a tsunami. A too big, too uncontrolled, too inexorably lethal tidal wave of fury.

"You don't get to do that," Nick said, just as quietly. Just as deadly I realised. "This is not your show to command," he added.

"No?" Ric asked, almost reasonably, his tone was so level and low. "Amber is not a pawn in your wars."

"And she's yours to protect, we get it," Nick replied steadily. "But you knew what was at stake before you walked in this room. You're supposed to be a professional. You said you could do this. If I'd known this would be too hard for you to get, I would have insisted you sit this one out."

"This is not too hard for me to get," Ric argued softly. "This is me," he said, and from the looks of it, no one quite understood his meaning.

I'd never seen Ric like this. True, I'd not seen much of him, only two days of him in fact. But this was not the man I had envisioned when I'd spoken to him on-line so many times over the years.

This man was violent anger contained in a rigid structure. Tightly wound like a coil, a spring about to release. Yet he was magnificent. Larger than anyone else in that room. More impressive than the police officer. Than the hard edged man who was his boss. Than the warrior with the dark ink of a tribal tattoo on his arm, watching the scene from the still open door with a scowl.

I didn't understand what was going on with Ric, but I knew power and presence when I saw it. Jaxon could take a lesson or two from him. Ric wasn't even trying to rule this room. He just was.

"Harding's a manipulator," Ric said, voice rough around the edges. "He was playing her."

"We all knew he would," Nick argued, the other guys present clearly leaving this conversation entirely up to their boss.

"But Amber didn't!" Ric roared, and the change in his volume made even the men jerk. "You want her participation, you fucking ask! You tell her what she's getting into. Don't you fucking dare try to use her, Nick. Or so help me..."

"So help you what?" Nick yelled back, the volume once again set to the highest notch on their dials. "You'll quit? Right now I'd accept, arsehole!"

"I wouldn't quit," Ric shot back. "I'd leave. But not until
after
I entered a line of code I have sitting dormant in your system that would put you in the dark for so fucking long that you'd forget what light even is."

Oh, boy. He did
not
just threaten his boss with a virus, did he?

"What did you just say?" Nick whispered.

"And I'd take Amber with me, so you fuckers couldn't lay a hand on her ever again," Ric added. I was thinking it wasn't an afterthought, he was still winding up delivering his threats.

"I'd like to see you try," Nick murmured.

"You wanna see me try?" Ric asked, swiping up a tablet computer that Jason had placed on the table when he walked in, and starting to type furiously on the screen.

Oh, no.

"Put that down, Shaw," Nick growled, the men all straightening up and moving a step closer.

"It only takes a second, Anscombe," Ric advised. "And then everything you worked for is gone."

A click sounded out over our shoulders. I glanced back and saw Ben, the tattoo guy, holding a gun, pointed at Eric.

"Take a breath,
e hoa
," he said. "We're all a little strung out right now and you anywhere near a computer in this frame of mind, I'm thinkin' is a bad move."

Ric turned slowly to face the guy, his hands still inputting code on the screen.

"You gonna shoot me, Tamati?" he asked, flashing teeth in a smile that was definitely not friendly.

"You gonna stop being a prick and put that thing down?" Ben replied steadily. "This has got outta hand," he added. "Look at your girl."

Ric stopped typing and turned his head to look at me. I don't know what he saw, but his shoulders drooped, the tablet came down, and in the next instant someone stepped forward about to snatch it as though it was a weapon that could be fired on them all.

I slipped in before they could, taking the tablet from Ric's immobile hand and checking the screen. Everyone froze. I let a breath of air out as I read the mesmerising code Ric had written, which was designed to make an image of a cute, fluffy kitten flash up on all of ASI's computer screens when they logged in, saying, "I big scary monster. Raaar!" along the bottom of the picture.

"Amber," Nick warned.

"Do you really think he'd screw with you like that?" I asked, still staring at the cat. "Do you guys not actually know him at all?"

My fingers swiped at the screen and I lifted my eyes from the tablet and then turned it around for everyone to see the results of Ric's nefarious plans.

"For fuck's sake," I murmured. "You're a pack of idiots. Cavemen have better understanding of human nature than any of you."

"Did you activate that?" Ric asked, voice strained. I glanced up at him and shrugged.

"They can handle a little kitty, I'm sure. Such big, strong, manly men."

I heard a snort behind me, but didn't turn around to see who it was from.

"Um," Ric said, licking his lips and running a hand through his short, dark hair. "It's a gateway," he finally said.

"What's a gateway?" Nick asked.

"Once you click on the image the real code is unravelled."

"Huh?" someone said.

"Did you, sweetheart?" Ric asked me again.

"What does the real code do?" Nick demanded, voice deathly quiet.

Ric lifted his face from mine and stared at his boss. "Not quite what I threatened, but something close."

His eyes came back to mine, as well as everyone else's in the room. I kept my face neutral, held Ric's intense gaze and then looked at each man in turn.

"It does this," I said, lifting the tablet back up and turning it towards the group of men.

The kitty had morphed into a lioness who demanded, "Now apologise, jerks!"

Silence for a suspended moment and then Ben started to laugh, quickly followed by Adam and a few other guys and finally by Nick.

"You are such a fucktard, Shaw," he growled between chuckles.

Ric was looking at me intently, his face a mixture of emotions, so swiftly crossing his features it was hard to keep up. Anger. Shock. Relief. Pride. And lastly, fear. A fear so great it actually looked like it hurt. And then I did too, because to see Ric in pain was to feel it.

I hated that he hurt.

I ached for his pain.

I took a step towards him, reaching out with my hand and he turned away.

OK. So not the reception I expected for doctoring his code and saving his Neanderthal arse.

"All right," Nick said, getting everyone to quieten down and drawing their attention away from felines and back to the task at hand. "Everyone cool?" he asked.

Some nodded, some grunted agreement and Ric just stood stock still.

"You've got a valid point, Eric," Nick acknowledged, which for him, I supposed, was tantamount to an apology. "Amber we need to lock this guy down. We need your help. But Harding will do almost anything to confuse you. To lure you back to him. Are you up for it?"

I had the impression that this little speech would not be happening if not for Ric's stunning performance just then. His desire to protect me to that degree was humbling. And thrilling. But his reaction to my interference just stung.

I had no more room for confusion. I was chock-a-block full of that blasted emotion, any more doubt and uncertainty and I'd just shut down.

"I'd like to help," I started, but Nick jumped in before I could go on.

"Good. Call him back. We need to know what he's thinking, what his intentions are."

My eyes flicked to the cop's. He was watching the room with his arms crossed over his thick chest, a scowl that matched Ben's on his face.

"I thought he was off limits," I said, directing the statement to the detective, but feeling the stillness of Ric at my side. I swear he'd stopped breathing, but I didn't turn to check. I needed to have this out.

"He is," the detective, Pierce I remembered, said. But nothing else.

"Why?" I asked, the room strung bowstring taut with tension.

"I don't know," Pierce said, shaking his head. "My orders come from Wellington. From the top. I've been told to stop digging, to walk away and not look back."

"Yet here you are," I offered.

"Yet here I am," he agreed.

It didn't make any sense and I sure as hell didn't have an answer to this turn of events. Jaxon laid a trap for me. Jason had suggested it was an initiation. An initiation into the inner workings of C&C? But if it was false, why was it so in line with what everyone suspected Jaxon being capable of? If it wasn't real, then why did it feel so plausible when I read it? When I saw that image of him shooting a man on his knees?

Smoke and fire. Where there's one there's another, but I guess a cop can't move on gut feelings and mine were telling me something was wrong with Jaxon Harding. Something I'd chosen to ignore or he'd hidden for the past twenty months. I was done accepting all the guilt. I was done believing Jaxon was innocent. I had no way of knowing if he wasn't, but I was done being manipulated by him.

And if I were honest, I was done letting anyone have an open invitation to do the same.

I moved forward and sat down in the chair at the table, a purposeful movement to make me seem smaller, less of a threat to those in the room. I was the only one sitting for all of a minute, then Pierce sat opposite, Nick joined him shortly afterwards with a nod to the door to make the rest of the guys leave.

Finally Ric took the seat at my side.

It was a small victory. He still didn't reach for me. Mixed signals seemed to be his modus operandi right now, but I couldn't let it distract. I needed answers. I needed to know what Nick and Pierce expected from me before I committed to anything they asked.

I was never going to be ignorant of what was happening around me ever again.

"So, despite your superiors ordering you to drop your investigation into Jaxon," I said, looking Pierce in the eye, "you're still digging anyway."

"Something like that," he admitted.

"So, I ask again. Why?"

"Cop's intuition," Pierce replied.

"Are are good at what you do, Detective Pierce?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Do you catch your criminals, more often than not?"

"Yes."

"Does your gut ever lie?"

"No."

I leaned forward, looked him in the eyes and said, "I'm good at what I do, too. There is only one other person in this country, to my knowledge, who is as good as me. And he's sitting to my left right now. You want my help?" Pierce nodded. "Then you get what I'm good at, nothing else. I'm no undercover cop. I'm not a secret agent spy. I will not place myself in any physical danger because, to be honest, I suck at self defence and the bottom line; my body is mine. Not yours. Not Nick Anscombe's and ASI's. Not the side of the battle that is just and right. Mine. Understand?"

"Yes, Ms Lane. I understand."

"Jaxon Harding scares the shit out of me," I declared. "You say he manipulates. I say he corrupts through emotions and hasn't a soul. You say he's a high-functioning psychopath. I say he is evil. But the real catch?"

I'd done a lot of thinking. None of it made a lick of sense. Until this second. Until right here, right now. Facing a cop and private investigator, knowing they wanted to use me to get to a man who - and I wasn't lying - scared the shit of me. Did they think I would kowtow?

I might have been fooled by Jaxon. I might have been naive to think he loved me like a normal man would. But I have never been considered stupid in my entire life. I learn from my mistakes.

Hello? Perfect picture recall. I can't forget them.

"He thinks he's not," I continued. "He thinks he's on the right side of the law. He believes ASI are the terrorists. The cops are his friends. He is delusional, has no boundaries, no filter to separate good from bad. But he also has extremely talented people around him. Not just muscle, like Sala Lauofo. But brains, like Bryan Messing and Blair Tate."