Risky Temptation (3 page)

Chapter
Three
Halle

              “I can’t believe someone who has never even seen a local theater production, let alone a Broadway show, has now seen
three
West End productions!” I crowed in triumph.

              Marco laughed as he wrapped his arm comfortably around my waist.

              In the cool evening night, we walked down the quiet street towards home.

              “And you’d think after the third time, you’d stop bouncing in your seat like that,” Marco chided me in mock sternness. “I’m pretty sure the people behind us weren’t too happy.”

              “Well
they
should’ve been bouncing too!” I argued. “That was such a good show! How can anyone just sit still watching it?”

              Life was full of surprises but Marco Desmond was even fuller. I would never have guessed that the notorious Desmond Mafia hitman would want to see live theater. It was weird to think of Marco sitting through a production of the Sound of Music. Almost laughable. In fact, when I had imagined the idea I had actually laughed out loud in the shower.              

              But when I saw an ad for a new play opening on the West End, I had asked casually if Marco would want to see it as well. I had asked expecting him to shoot down the idea and instead suggesting I take Jamie.

              But to my complete surprise, Marco had agreed.

              Walking out of the theater after our first play, I had been even more surprised by Marco’s thoughts on it. He spoke intelligently and keenly of the play’s premise and its execution. He spoke in a way that showed me how well read he was and how incredibly fast he was.

              “I thought you were just a mobster,” I had said in a stunned voice after his critique.

              Marco had looked down at me, flashing me one of his brilliant smiles that always made my heart skip a beat. His dark eyes glittered in amusement. “And I thought you were just an accountant.”

              Then we had gone to see a musical.

              And then two weeks after that, he had come home with tickets to another play.

              Yes, life in the last few months had been terrifying, stressful, and dangerous. But for what I finally had now, there was nothing I would trade my experiences for. It was all worth it to get to this little piece of heaven.

              Reaching the front door, I pulled out the key for Marco. “You know, I was thinking, if that director really wants to make that play a success he should’ve—”

              I stopped.

              Marco had taken the key and opened the door but as soon as he had turned the doorknob, he had paused, his back frozen still. His hand still on the knob, the door was open only a fractional inch.

              Through the small crack, I could see a faint light. Had we left the lights on? We normally didn’t. Had I forgotten?

              “Marco,” I started.

              But before I could say anymore, his hand reached out and shuffled me behind him. His arm was extended behind him, shielding me in a protective manner.

              I could feel the hairs on my neck rising. What was going on? Why wasn’t he going in?

              “Mar—” I tried again in a whisper when an unfamiliar voice cut me off.

              “You might as well come on in,” a British voice called out from the inside of our home. Immediately I felt a ripple of fear course through me. “It’s bad manners to linger in doorways, even if those doorways are your own.”

              Marco’s spine straightened at the voice. Even though I was standing behind him, I could tell he was weighing his options. But even I knew whoever was inside had the drop on us. Who knew how many were inside?

              I looked over my shoulder. Or outside?

              Marco straightened up and then reached behind him without looking for my hand, pulling me close.

              We were going in.

              Holding on tight to his hand, we cautiously stepped through the doorway. Marco kept me behind him, making sure his body was covering mine.

              The main entry was dark just like we had left it but there was a light coming from the living room. Slowly, we headed towards the soft light.

              “Ah, it’s been awhile, Marco,” the voice said in greeting as we reached the entryway of the living room.

              Marco kept me firmly behind him so it was hard to look around his broad back to see who was speaking. I almost didn’t want to see. But I had to know who had broken into our house, killing the charm of the night we had been enjoying.

              Peeking through a gap in his elbow, I saw a man sitting in one of the upholstered chairs.

              Instantly I thought of a viper. A snake.

              There was an immediate vibe of hunter from the man. But it wasn’t just any kind of hunter. It was a calculating hunter. It was a hunter who preyed from the shadows. It was a hunter that stung with poison. That killed from afar.

              Although he was sitting down, I could tell he was tall. He looked like he would be as tall as Marco. His coloring was almost similar. Dressed in all dark dress pants and shirt with gleaming black shoes with his legs casually crossed, it only accentuated his long dark hair that fell in waves. Although he was leaner than Marco, I could tell by his broad shoulders and the way he sat that he had a physique that was probably no less impressive.

              The only thing of color on him was his bright, jewel green eyes.

              And they were currently pinned on Marco.

              A small smile curled the corner of the man’s mouth. “Glad to see me, I hope?”

              I could feel and see Marco’s shoulders tense and his arms bulge as he fisted his hands. Who was this man? Did he really know Marco? It certainly sounded like he did.

              “Lestrade,” Marco bit out. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

              I looked up in surprise towards Marco, only being able to make out the side of his face. Lestrade? How did he know this man?

              Lestrade smiled, his white teeth gleaming sharply against his black clothes and the dimness of the room. Only one light was on in the entire living room with the rest of the house pitch black.

              “Still not very polite, I see,” he said in his clipped British accent. Lestrade raised a brow and I caught his glinting green eyes pierce straight through my little peek hole and into me. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to the lady of the house?”

              Marco didn’t budge. He stood his ground, keeping me firmly behind him. “Lestrade, get the fuck out of my house before I knock you out.”

              Lestrade clicked his tongue. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, Mr. Desmond,” he admonished. “Not polite at all. Try to find a more civil tongue before I lose my own temper.”

              A blur of shadows began to shift from the end of the living room. The living room was connected to the open kitchen. It was so dark, I hadn’t thought to even look there. But from the dark kitchen, four men slowly emerged.             

              They were dressed in a similar all black outfit like Lestrade but they had less grace and sophistication. Instead, I could tell these men were about brute force. One of them looked like he had the neck of a tree trunk. They were enormous and their blunt and broad faces spoke of their expertise in taking and giving broken bones.

              The tension radiated off of Marco’s body. He had one arm out behind him, keeping me pushed safely him. This was a dangerous situation. Far more dangerous than we had anticipated.

              Not only was there a stranger in our home, but he had clearly brought friends. And these were not friends who had come for a genteel conversation. My skin prickled. They had come for violence.

              Lestrade’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly. “Now come on in and introduce us properly before things get out of hand,” he said. His voice had taken on a more icy tone.

              Marco gave another moment’s pause before realizing he would need to give in for the moment. We were outnumbered and we were positioned poorly. Right in the narrow hallway, we were easy pickings.

              Marco slowly walked into the living room, pulling me along. He kept me behind him but didn’t push me all the way back. I could see Lestrade more clearly and seeing him closer and more openly made me realize just how terrifying this man was.

              Roy Desmond had been tall and huge. He had the girth of a well-fed crime kingpin. He had all the physical attributes to intimidate.

              This Lestrade was leaner, much leaner, and more elegant and yet he gave off an aura of poisonous danger. Even just sitting in his chair, there was something vicious about him that marred what would normally be considered a handsome famous. His long nose and chiseled jawline only seemed to emphasis something cruel.

              “Ah, so there’s the lady of the house,” he said, smiling broadly. His green eyes glittered in intrigue. He cocked his head in acknowledgment. “Tobias Lestrade, at your service.”

              I stared at him in silence, unsure what I was supposed to do.

              Tobias looked at me, those green eyes expectant and waiting.

              I cleared my voice, husky with fear and adrenaline. “Halle,” I said. “Halle Margot.”

              He gave another devastating smile. If he didn’t look so goddamn frightening, his smile could stop any girl’s heart. But to me, it looked like a snake smiling before he bit into your neck.

              “Ah, yes, Miss Margot,” he said knowingly. I felt goosebumps raise across my arms. Did he know of me as well?

              “You’ve had your introductions,” Marco said, his jaw taut with anger. “Now what the fuck are you doing?”

              Lestrade sighed in frustration as if Marco was spoiling a good night of fun for him.

              “I see this isn’t going to be a very civil night,” he said. He slapped his thigh suddenly, making me jump. “Fine then. I’ll just get right to it, shall I? I’m here to offer you a job.”

              Marco looked at Tobias in stunned skepticism. “A job,” he repeated, his skepticism clearly echoing through his voice.

              Tobias nodded. “That’s right. A job,” he said.

              “I’m not interested,” Marco responded immediately.

              Tobias sucked in some air and gave Marco a look of apologetic hesitation. “Oh, I should clarify. When I say I’m here to offer you a job, I mean, I’m here to assign you a job. There really are no options in this matter. Either you take it or you take it.”

              “I don’t want it,” Marco said.

              Sweat was dampening the back of my dress. The tension in the room was so thick I could barely breathe. It felt odd to know that outside on our quiet Chelsea street, no one could guess that we were being threatened and held captive in our own home right at this moment.

             
Thank god Jamie was busy studying tonight,
I quickly thought. Jamie had originally been planned to come along and to stay with us for the night but he had bowed out at the last minute to do some more studying.

              What kind of job was this man speaking of? Knowing Marco’s skill set and history, I could only imagine. But how would this man know about Marco and who he was and what he could do? This man was clearly British. I knew about some of the off-shore Desmond holdings but I didn’t ever recall seeing anything large or meaningful based in the UK.