Beneath the Secrets: Part One (5 page)

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Authors: Lisa Renee Jones

BOOK: Beneath the Secrets: Part One
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“I’m guessing it’s small compared to how much you’re losing in stolen product.”

A muscle flexed and contracted in Mendez’s jaw. “How do you want this played? I can introduce you as head of security so you have full access to the staff.”

“That works only if you understand up front that I’ll play the bad guy ripping you off. It’s the only way I can find out who’s willing to join me.”

“Understood.”
 

“And I’ll have a laundry list of data I’ll need as well as full access to the relevant computer databases. I’ll also need a vehicle. A 4Runner is my preference in case I need to transport anything or anyone. And, of course, money before I get started.”

“I’ll need a bank account.”

“Cash,” Blake countered.
 

He studied Blake a moment, his expression inscrutable. “It’ll be delivered to your hotel by end of day. How do you want to start?”

“I’ll visit the restaurants here locally. How many are there?”

“Three in San Francisco, but, of course, in Los Angeles and San Diego we have extensive operations. More than fifty restaurants.”

“You said you knew there was a problem your head of security couldn’t identify. Why are you so certain you were right and he was wrong?”

 
“Discrepancies in reports.” Mendez punched his intercom before Blake could ask for clarification. “Come to my office, Kara.”
 

The door opened almost instantly. “Yes, Mr. Mendez?”
 

Blake tensed at the soft, musical note of Kara’s voice from behind him that too easily stirred memories of her naked in his arms, and of the soft little purrs of pleasure sliding from her lips. Damn it, what was it about this woman that got to him? He’d spent two years living in the fast lane, in and out of women like they were a drive-thru, living for short-term highs and quick escapes. None of them did this to him. Not one. Just her.
 

Mendez motioned her forward. “Join us, Kara.”
 

Blake heard the swish of her skirt behind him a moment before she appeared at the side of the desk. His gaze lifted, skimming her petite but curvy hips hugged by the snug black skirt she wore, and he remembered in far too vivid detail how well she fit pressed against him. His dick pressed thickly against his zipper, his body betraying him, uncaring about what a lying, conniving bitch she’d turned out to be. And she was. He couldn’t afford to believe anything else.
 

“Kara’s intimately aware of our situation,” Mendez announced, “which is why I’m loaning her to you for the duration of your stay.”
 

Intimately. The word ground through every nerve ending Blake owned and he wondered exactly how affectionate she’d been with Mendez. “How intimately?”
 

Her brown eyes shot to his, and to his surprise he found a hint of indignation, as if she read his thoughts and wasn’t pleased. And damn it, there was a genuineness to her emotion, a wounded animal look deep in the depths of her stare, that twisted him in knots. For some ridiculous reason, he clung to the belief that Mendez, or maybe even Alvarez himself, held something over her, or she wouldn’t be here. But a victim wouldn't have had the skills to pull off Denver any more than a simple secretary would.

“I’m the one who discovered the discrepancies in reports that told us there was an inventory problem,” she explained of her involvement.
 

He arched a brow. “Were you now?”
 

“Yes.” Her eyes held his. “I was.”

Blake stared at her, and damn it, he didn’t like how easily he could keep staring at her. He cut his gaze to Mendez. “How long has Kara been with you?”

“I’ve been with the company for six months,” she answered herself, drawing his attention back to her.
   

“And already making a name for yourself,” he commented dryly, and watched her delicate little hands, hands that he knew to be soft and incredibly talented, curl around a pad of paper with a white-knuckle grip that confirmed just how nervous he was making her. Good. She should be nervous.
 
He wondered how many men she’d slept with to get to this level of trust this quickly.
 

“Mr. Wright will have level 5 security access,” Mendez instructed Kara. “He’ll be taking on the role of new head of security as of tomorrow morning. See to it he’s well taken care of. Whatever he needs or wants, I expect you to ensure he gets.”

To her credit, Kara appeared cool, collected, and unfazed by the command that put her in the hands of a man she’d both fucked and fucked over, because she had to know he wasn’t going to just let it go.
 

“Of course,” she agreed coolly, her gaze flicking to her bosses. “Is there an office I should assign Mr. Wright?”

Blake pushed to his feet. “Whatever office you assign me I won’t be occupying. I’ll, or rather we’ll, be working incognito, which means we’ll be using my hotel room. Unless, of course, you have a problem with that?”

There was a subtle shift in her posture, a stiffening of her spine. “No. No problem at all. Whatever you need, Mr.Wright—”

“Blake,” he corrected. “As far as I’m concerned, sharing a hotel room wipes out formality. Don’t you agree?”
 

Her chest rose and fell before she dodged a direct reply and simply said, “Blake.”
 

“Arrange a 4Runner for Mr. Wright’s use,” Mendez directed, clearly keeping up his end of formality, “and buzz us when it’s ready.”
 

“Yes, sir,” Kara said. “I’ll get right on it.” She flicked a look at Blake. “Anything else you need immediately?”
 

“Plenty,” he commented, “but we’ll take it one thing at a time.”
 

A muscle in her creamy white throat rippled. “Then I’ll get the vehicle handled.” She flicked Mendez a look. “Is there anything else?”

“No,” he said. “You’re free to go.”

She headed for the door and Blake was eager to follow, his blood pumping at the promise of the nice long chat the two of them were going to have, where clothing was most definitely optional. In fact, clothing wasn’t optional at all. He was going to strip her naked so she had no place to hide another dose of whatever she’d drugged him with last week.
 

It was a satisfying thought until he turned to find Mendez looking like a cat who just ate a canary. Mendez could see Blake’s interest in Kara, and he would use her against him if given the chance. And any time someone became a tool in a weapons chest, their life was on the line. No one was going to end up dead because of Blake—no one he wasn’t damn certain deserved to be dead.
 

“Nice piece of ass,” Blake said, making sure he was as crass as possible. This was about making Kara a body, not a person. “Sure you want her alone in a hotel room with me?”

“I’m no one’s guardian angel,” Mendez replied dryly, and the message was clear. She was part of his payment. Blake wondered how many men she’d pleased to satisfy her boss and disgust burned in his belly.
 

His teeth clenched. “If she loses her usefulness, I’m giving her back.”
 

“I’d like to think you’ll solve my problem before that happens.”

“I’ll need more than a night to solve your problem. I’m not promising I’ll need more than that with her.”

But that was a lie. He’d had a night with her and still he needed another. No matter how much Blake told himself that Kara, like everyone else the past two years, was simply a tool to get what he wanted, blood in exchange for blood, there was something about her messing with his head. Something that had taken hold of him and wouldn’t let go. And that made her a distraction he couldn’t afford, dangerous beyond a loaded gun with her finger on the trigger.
 

He had to get focused, put her in perspective as what she was…an enemy who could get him dead before he’d gotten the payback he was after.

 

Chapter Three

 

Kara buzzed her boss to tell him Blake’s truck had arrived, and then pressed her hands to her desk and willed her nerves to calm. She was shaking inside and out, trying to gather her composure and her things before she had to face Blake again, all too aware that he knew she was lying about Denver. She’d seen it in those keen, deep, dark brown eyes of his. If he didn’t kill her for drugging him, Mendez would if he found out she wasn’t what she seemed to be. Her only cold comfort in her situation was that Blake would look bad—incompetent, even—if he told Mendez he’d been undone by a woman, and he wasn’t likely to let that happen. She just had to stick to her story and she’d be fine. Right. Fine. She was headed to a hotel room with a man that thought she was better off silent and six feet underground.
 

The sound of the door opening behind her had Kara jerking backwards and smoothing her skirt, putting on the game face that was wearing on her. She hated Mendez Mendez more today than ever before. He’d handed her over to Blake like a wrapped package, and, ironically considering her choices last week, all but telling her to strip down and pleasure him. She wasn’t his whore or Blake’s, but yet, somehow, she’d become that and more. But it didn’t matter. She’d do what she had to do. She had a purpose. She had a reason for being here and doing this job—that mattered more than anything else.
 

Kara turned, expecting to face both Blake and Mendez, but found only Blake present. Their eyes locked and held and Kara felt the connection like a hard punch in the chest, the sizzling attraction between them impossible to escape. His expression darkened instantly, and she could almost taste his anger, as if he didn’t want to feel this spark between them any more than she did. She wasn’t comforted by his desire, by how it might give her influence over him. Men in this world would slit your neck for making them feel something they didn’t want to, and she’d already given him a reason to kill her by way of Denver.
 

Delicately, she cleared her throat, afraid of not finding her voice. “The 4Runner is waiting on you in the garage. You’re at the Tuscan off the pier, so you’ll have a parking garage for easy access to the vehicle. It’s also right by the pier Newport uses for critical product distribution, which I thought you might find convenient. What time should I be at the hotel in the morning?”

He barked out laughter and sauntered toward her, the dark rumble of sound expanding the broad, stellar chest his leather jacket did nothing to hide. He stopped toe to toe with her, an inch separating his boots and her high heels.
 

His gaze slid over her face, down to her mouth, lingering, and lifting. “You don’t seriously think I’m going to let you out of my sight tonight, now do you?”

His nearness rushed over her, sending waves of tingling sensations through her body. This time it was her gaze that went to his mouth before she could stop it, and she could almost taste him on her lips, taste her on his lips. “I’m not going anywhere if that’s what you think,” she finally managed.
 

“Not going anywhere without me,” he corrected and leaned in close, his lips near her ear, his breath hot on her neck. “We have trust issues, you and I, sweetheart. You’re staying by my side.”

Oh yes, they did have trust issues, which had to be why her heart was racing a hundred miles an hour. Didn’t it? “I was doing my job.”

“We’ll be talking about how you define your job. You can count on it.” He took a step backwards and motioned her forward.
 

She didn’t know what was more striking in that moment—how much she wanted him close again, or how much she knew getting away from him was absolutely necessary. She reached inside her drawer to grab her oversized black Coach purse, and a pang of discomfort tightened her chest. It had been a gift for her twenty-seventh birthday, a year ago in a week, from someone very special. Someone she wished was here now.
 

Kara drew a deep breath and shoved aside the thought, all too aware that it was going to clutter her mind with emotion, and emotion wouldn’t achieve her mission. She shouldered the purse and shut the drawer to find Blake’s keen stare on her face.
 

Eager to escape his inspection, she snatched her long canvas jacket and put it on, then retrieved her briefcase. She didn’t look at him; afraid he’d see too much, afraid she’d feel that funny punch in the chest that one of his deep stares created.
 

Kara walked past him, toward the elevator. He fell into step beside her. Still she stared ahead and tried not to be aware of how big and tall, and deliciously, dangerously male he was beside her. Damn the man for getting to her and seeing beneath her carefully crafted alias. And he did. She knew he did. Damn herself for allowing there to be anything to see. She was trained better than this, but then, she wasn’t supposed to be the one handling a job this personal.
 

Together, too in unison for Kara’s comfort, they stepped into the elevator and Blake stayed by her side, only inches separating their arms. Kara punched the button for the garage level. Blake turned to face her, resting a shoulder on the wall, watching her.

Kara turned to face him, taking in his hooded gaze, his long, dark lashes concealing the thoughts she desperately wanted to read. “Are you just going to stand there watching me?”

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