Sweet Seduction Stripped (10 page)

The phone clunked down in its cradle and my heart rate increased. Maybe Bryan would learn something, but what Jaxon hoped he learned was me screwing him over before I succeeded. He didn't know what the hell I was typing, but Bryan definitely would.

OK, you crazy, delusional, murdering fuck. I see your IT geek spy named Bryan, and I raise you an IT geek god named Ric.

I waited for him to turn his attention to his own computer and slipped the bug out of my jeans pocket, placing it on the underside of the desk frame, just to the edge, so it blended in with the black of the metal struts to the side. It was limited in visibility, but with the glass surface of Jaxon's über sleek desk, it could work.

Then I scrubbed my useless code and got to work. I typed furiously, but with as much of a casual flare as I could muster. It wasn't easy. Jaxon kept leaning back in his seat and eyeing me, scrubbing at his jaw contemplatively, and adjusting himself in his chair. He'd always been turned on when I worked hard at my computer. Sometimes he'd make me do it naked and afterwards...

I pushed the memory from my mind and concentrated on what I was doing. It would take Bryan no more than five minutes to get here from the IT side of the building. If he'd been in the office we shared at all. Jaxon may have phoned his cellphone, in which case he could be here soon, or later. No way to tell.

I re-routed seven times, then backtracked, a smile spreading my lips at Ric's signature touch. The smile dimmed when the picture of him in camo flashed before my eyes, making the code I was typing suddenly disappear.

Cursing internally, I'd just managed to run a chaos cluster code to hide my tracks when a knock sounded out and Bryan opened the door.

"Where do you want me, boss?"

"On her," Jaxon responded, aiming a finger at me. "She so much as types the wrong thing you tell me. She so much as does anything that could implicate C&C you shout out. Got it?"

Bryan looked uncomfortable, but nodded, pulling up a chair and sitting himself down to my right. The bug was just in front of him, by his elbow as he placed it on top of the desk. If he looked beneath, where his arm rested, he'd see it.

And knowing Bryan, he'd recognise the device for what it was.

Sweat ran freely down my back, beaded across my brow as I smiled at Bryan. He'd always been nice to me, not that I thought for a moment he wasn't fully aware of who he worked for and what they did.

He looked at the screen after returning my smile tentatively and his eyes widened fractionally.

Jaxon stilled. The room expanded with the pressure of a threatening explosion and Bryan said, "Fuck, you are so good at that, Amber. Those bastards will never trace a thing."

I smiled, finished the line of code I was on and watched seven point two million US dollars get routed through fourteen countries, eight currencies, and one hundred and six bank accounts. Before it landed in the Bank Of New Zealand, Newmarket branch, under the account name of Anscombe Securities and Investigations. I couldn't bring myself to attach a reference.

I leaned back in my chair trying to hide my rapid heartbeat and desperate need to suck in air, then lifted my determined gaze to Jaxon's.

He held my stare for several seconds, while Bryan watched on silently, aware we were having a battle of wills and not wanting to get sucked into that fucked up mess.

Then Jaxon said, voice low and ominous, "A couple of hours, huh, Amber?" Oh, shit. I should have taken longer. I'd told him it would.

He grinned, that same lust-filled, wicked - now I knew
evil
- grin. "I guess we both lied," he whispered.

Oh, dear God. Sweet Seduction. And Ric's friends.

Her scream kept repeating in my head, even though it had been long fucking minutes since Harding had frightened Amber enough to make her react. With the bug still in her jeans I hadn't been able to see what he was doing at the time, but I heard everything.

Every-fucking-thing.

And now I had eyes to go with the words; Amber performing like a seasoned veteran spy. Brilliantly.

"I guess we both lied."

One hand flew over the keyboard activating a universal company-wide page, while the other hit the panic alarm to the side of my desk. A clanging whoop-whoop went off, red lights flashing like some b-grade sci-fi movie scene in an underground bunker.

ASI HQ wasn't underground, but it sure as hell was going into lockdown, stage one: We could get in and out, but only with advanced security checks in place.

"Answer the fucking phone," I muttered, staring at several different images on the multiple screens in front of me at once.

Amber pale as shit, the guy sitting next to her, which I assumed was the one called Bryan, and Jaxon Fucking Harding glaring across his desk at my girl.

Sweet Seduction full to the brim with free-loading customers, Gen and Kelly rushed off their feet behind the counter, no one answering the motherfucking phone.

The corridor outside control as several ASI operatives, who happened to be in the building at the time I shut and locked the doors, waited for me to get my shit together and let them in.

I stared at the split screens a few seconds longer feeling a type of rage and fear I hadn't allowed myself to feel in way too long. My hand actually fucking shook as I hit the release on the door to my back.

Six people stormed in, none of them saying a single word. We'd done this shit too many times lately to get all crazy-arsed verbal when it hit the fucking fan.

"Bomb threat to Sweet Seduction," I managed to say, my hands fisting as I watched Harding rise slowly from his chair, ordering Bryan to leave, and rounding the desk to approach Amber.

Panic. Pure unadulterated panic. I'd forgotten what the motherfucking emotion felt like until right then.

I heard Nick behind me barking orders. "Koki, Brook! On your bikes, Sweet Seduction ASAP. Jason, you go for Dom and Drew, I don't want them anywhere near that shop until we have Gen and Kelly out. Ben and Abi! Eyes on fucking Harding and C&C."

Finally the phone answered in the my ear.

"Sweet Seduction Café," came Gen's sweet voice down the line. "We have coffee, chocolate..."

I cut her off.

"Code red, sweetheart. Evacuate."

A slight pause, then, "OK, Eric," and the phone disconnected. That woman had come a hell of a long way.

I watched the screen as she said something to Lucas and Kelly at her sides, Kelly going to the front doors on the shop and opening them wide, pinning them back, Lucas checking the toilets and music cave out the back, and then Gen announcing that everyone had to leave.

I hadn't given her a reason. She, and the others, had just acted. My heart clenched, they were as much family as those standing at my back. I heard her say, "Gas leak," to a customer, and my lips quirked at the sides.

The semi-smile fell as my attention was pulled to C&C. Harding's back to my camera lens, Amber completely hidden behind his too big frame.

I was gonna puke. That acidic shit in my gut was churning something fierce.

Then he said, clear as fucking day over the bug's mike, "Your fingerprints are all over that transaction now, baby. You're the one who's screwed ASI. If Nick Anscombe wants revenge, who do you think he's gonna go for? Sure, he'll come after me, but he's a thorough little fuck. He'll also target the person who hit enter on the computer that linked him to PaP."

He started laughing. Amber was silent. I moved the camera, trying to get a shot of the computer screen on the laptop she'd been working on, but the angle was all wrong.

"Where do you want the money?"

"Nah, baby. You got it wrong. We're giving those arseholes a present. A gift, so to speak."

"A gift?"

"Yeah. A gift from an old friend of mine."

I shook my head, brows furrowed, but I didn't have time to think about what exactly Harding had made Amber do. I could guess for now and it wasn't the emergency; the thing making my body rigid with pent up anger, my heart palpitate with utter fear, and my head ache with horrific possibilities. That was all for Amber, my Dancer. I needed her out of there.

She'd said he was unstable, but having heard it for myself I felt chilled. The guy at the pointed end of his anger when she first arrived at the strip club proved how fucking loose a unit Jaxon Harding was. To hell with Nick's evidence. To hell with pinning Harding down. Amber Lane was all I could think about.

Danc3r.

My girl.

I swiped a tablet off the desk's surface and spun in my seat. I was two paces towards the door of control when Nick quietly said, "Where the fuck do you think you're going, Shaw?"

Koki, Brook, Jason, Ben and Abi had already left. It was just me and the bossman.

"I've gotta get her," I admitted, too wrung out to lie now.

Nick held my steady gaze carefully. It felt like it took for-fucking-ever for him to speak.

Then he pulled his cellphone from his pocket, swiped at the screen and brought it to his ear.

"Adam?" he said into the device. I started jumping from foot to foot, my free hand fisted the other tapping the tablet against my thigh. "Meet Ben, Abi and Eric at C&C. We've got a retrieval."

I let a relieved breath of air out, suddenly feeling light headed.

"You armed?" Nick asked, shoving the cellphone in his pocket and walking towards the chair I'd just vacated.

"Yes," I managed on an explosion of air.

"Got back-up clips?" he demanded, sitting down and moving the joystick to get a better angle on the screen at Sweet Seduction.

"Nick," I warned, needing to go, needing to get to her, needing this fucking conversation to end.

I knew what he was doing. He was trying to get me to slow down.

"Your knee up to this?" he asked, ignoring my warning completely. Nick Anscombe could be a fucking prick sometimes.

"Nick," I growled, instinctively checking the screen for the corridor outside control before I wrenched open the door.

"OK," Nick said on a sigh. "Just take fucking care, yeah?"

I nodded. He nodded back. And then I was out the door, sprinting past a shot-gun ready Carmel in the reception area, and taking the stairs three, four at a time even, to the parking garage and my SUV.

I'm coming, sweetheart. Just, please,
please,
hold the fuck on.

"You did good, baby," Jaxon purred, his lips on my bruised cheek, softly feathering kisses across clammy skin. "Now you're part of the team."

"Part of the team?" I asked, my hands stilled on his shoulders. I'd gripped him back, tried to play along, but that's as far as they'd managed to get. I couldn't make myself hold him closer. I just couldn't.

And if I kept him talking I prayed it would stop things progressing further than they already were. We were alone in his office, an office Jaxon had taken our relationship to the next level in, all those many months ago. I still remember the thrill of his chase. This omnipresent, important person in my world, handsome, confident, rich, showing such dedicated pursuit of me.

He'd swept me off my feet. And then had his wicked way with me on his office floor.

I blinked to clear my head, thoughts and memories, fears and concerns all clambering for attention in my too taxed brain.

"Yeah, baby. Been waiting for this day forever. The day you started really working for C&C."

I pushed back to look in his face. Needing to see the truth there. He honestly believed I'd want to continue working for him once I'd found out what exactly he did. The Gentleman's club was a front. A way to launder amounts of cash like that seven million odd I had just transferred into ASI's account.

What else would he expect me to do?

It didn't matter. I was getting out.

"Are you feeling OK, baby?" Jaxon asked, moving me from where we'd been standing in front of his desk, towards the sofa. I was acutely aware of the fact that Eric's bug was probably recording this scene.

"Wh..what are you doing?" I stuttered, utter panic swamping my thought processes right then.

"Need you, baby," he husked and pure terror joined in on the fun.

"I'm still sick," I murmured.

"Baby, it's been almost two days. I
need
you."

Hysteria threatened to engulf me. I'd thought him so hot and irresistible, that until yesterday I'd welcomed a robust and frequent sex life with him. Now I just felt sick at the thought.

He sat on the sofa while pushing down on my shoulder, making me kneel between his legs. I knew what was coming, and the thought had me actually gagging. The back of my hand to my mouth as I swallowed the bile back down.

"Baby," he growled, clearly seeing my reaction. "Not feeling turned on right about now with that pale arsed look on your face."

Thank fuck.

"Actually you're starting to turn green."

"Jaxon," I managed on a pant. "I'm gonna puke."

"Fucking hell!" he yelled, knifing up off the couch and hauling me to my feet by the upper arm. Surprisingly, despite the anger in his tone, his touch was still gentle as he led me into the attached bathroom and towards the toilet bowl.

I wasn't sure if I was going to be sick now, the immediate terror had passed. But the need to ensure he kept his distance had me searching deep within for the sensations I'd only recently lost. There is nothing less attractive than someone vomiting. I was determined to be the grossest looking sick person I could be.

But all I managed was a few dry heaves, saliva pooling in my mouth relentlessly and dribbling down my chin, but little else. That sandwich was well and truly entrenched in my belly. Oh, but this couldn't be attractive. Please, don't let it be attractive.

"I need a minute," I panted through a couple of spits in the loo. "Give me some space."

Not an unusual request. When I'd been sick in the past Jaxon would hover. Grab me wet wash cloths and glasses of water, and I'd always shoo him away, not wanting him to see me so
disgustingly wretched. My demand now was not out of the realm of normality. But Jaxon wasn't having any of that.

I realised, as he moved back only as far as the sink, crossing his arms and staring down at me, that escaping him while he was distracted would be damn hard tonight.

And that thought, the fact that I may have to go home with the murdering bastard, was enough to make some of my dinner come back up. I cultivated the idea for a little longer, making the vomit-fest worthwhile, then sat back on my haunches affecting the most pathetic look I could muster.

It worked. Jaxon's whole demeanour changed, face softening, arms uncrossing, and then he was reaching for a glass of water and filling it up at the sink.

"Baby," he crooned as he knelt down beside me, handing me the glass. "You really are feeling like shit, huh?"

I nodded, taking a sip and then spitting it out in the bowl. I took another and swallowed, relieving some of the itch in my bile scratched throat.

"I thought you were playing me," he murmured, wrapping an arm around my back and one under my legs, then hoisting me off the floor. He started carrying me out to the office.

If anyone was playing anyone though, it would be him. This was all new territory for me, but I had the feeling Jaxon was an expert. Twenty months, even more if you count when I started dancing here, of convincing me he was one thing, only to show me the real him this past few days.

He'd had plans for me, he'd said. And now he was enacting them.

"Why me?" I asked, as he placed me carefully on the couch. He stepped back and looked down at me from his impressive height. The lights in the room glinted off his blond hair, his eyes flashed a dazzling pale blue when he blinked.

"Why you what?" he asked, but I could see the intelligence behind his lids.

"You picked me, because of what I can do. Why?"

"I picked you because you made me rock hard watching you swing around that fucking pole. I was always going to take you to my bed, Amber. And once I did, there was no way I was ever letting you go."

Even after everything I'd learned about him I wanted to believe it was the truth. Far easier to swallow than the fact he'd chosen me for my computer hacking skills. He'd been attracted to my body, then fallen in love with me. Isn't that how normal relationships go? I wanted it to be true, even as I knew it was over.

Stupid. Romantic in a warped kind of way. But there'd been so many things he'd done which I'd loved. I may not have felt the same way as him, but I had loved him in my own way too.

Leaving was the only option, but it didn't mean that messed up feeling of sadness and heartache wasn't mixed in with the terror of what he could do and the horror of what he had done. It was a quagmire of conflicting emotions, and I just wanted it all to end. Be over and done with. So I could move on and patch up the cracks in my heart and head.

"I gotta make some calls. Have a nap, baby," he said, walking back to his desk and
still
not leaving me alone. "I'll try and finish up early tonight and get you home to our bed."

He was living in denial, of course. He knew I knew. And he knew I did not approve. And I was pretty damn sure he knew I wanted to run. But still he pretended we were a loving couple. Normal. Caring. On the right side of the law.

I'd stolen someone's money and framed someone else, setting them up in some way I hadn't yet fully comprehended, all because my boyfriend told me to. How would that play out in Court? It was done under duress, I could only hope that would be evident. But I wasn't knowledgeable about these things, so it was only a hope.

Minutes ticked by as Jaxon murmured on his phone and I pretended to be asleep. At one stage someone knocked on the door and Jaxon got up and spoke to them just inside the room. He didn't let them come in, but he didn't leave entirely either. The only thing I could do was glance at the ASI bug still hanging off the underside of his desk and hope it was actually working.

I couldn't change its position to a better one. I couldn't make a rapid phone call or send a text message. He barely spoke to the person for a minute, and I was
never
alone.

My eyes landed on the laptop and a small smile twitched on the edges of my lips. I hadn't had much time to write a foolproof code before Bryan arrived, but I had to hope the door I'd opened at the back of C&C's system was still hidden for now. The longer it took for me to check it and ramp up its security, the more likely it would be picked up by a safety sweep of one of the programmes IT usually ran twice a day.

I glanced at my watch and checked the time. The next sweep would be at midnight. Still five hours away, and even then it
could
still miss my encryption key. Chances were slim, Bryan and the team were almost as good as me.

If Eric got hold of that key, I wondered just what
he
could achieve.

And then I saw him in camouflage again, gun raised, muzzle glowing, pointed at the head of a frightened man.

I heard Jaxon walk to the bathroom, my eyes again closed since he'd shut the door on whoever had been standing there. I could hear him peeing, he hadn't closed himself in the ensuite. If I moved, he'd probably hear me. If I ran, it was too far to an external door; I'd be picked up on security cameras immediately, an alarm would sound before I'd make it off this floor.

I stayed immobile, and just let the image of Ric and that gun settle in my mind's eye. I took in every single minute detail I could. Searching for clues, looking for answers, praying for an explanation I could stomach. Could live with. Could accept.

I'm not naive. I know the world is brutal. I've just never broken the law until tonight.

The camouflage fatigues he wore were generic, no identifying patches or tags. He could have bought them at the Army Surplus store, like every other duck shooting enthusiast in the country. The gunk on his cheeks didn't quite hide the defeat in his eyes, the sheer exhaustion on his face. His hand looked steady, where it held the gun out, but then picking up a tremor in a still photo was never going to be an easy ask. He was leaning slightly, not entirely upright. Legs spread, all the weight on his right one, favouring the left. I couldn't see his free hand from the angle of the shot, but I'd bet all that money I transferred tonight that it was adding extra support to his weakened side. Blood coated his hand on the gun, but that wasn't all the red to be seen. His fatigues were darkened in places, smears blending into the pattern, but if you looked hard enough you could see they didn't belong. Most of it on his left leg, down the bottom of his trousers, dripping onto his scuffed thick soled boots. It also covered the man about to be killed.

I shifted my attention to him. He wasn't as exhausted as Eric, fear made his features pale, but as there was no camouflage paint on his face the contrast didn't seem as great. His eyes were widened in terror, but there was also an understanding there, an acceptance. His hands were calloused, the palms open and up in a sign of surrender. His clothes were crooked, but not dishevelled. Dusty, but not filthy, other than splatters of blood. He was on his knees and unarmed.

Three things I got from this assessment. Just three extremely important things.

Eric had been hurt badly, long enough to wear him down, and the result was an injury to his leg which I suspect he still suffered from today.

The guy on his knees was the man who had done him harm, practised in his art, his hands well worn by the tools of his trade, his clothes sporting evidence of the brutality he'd dealt in.

And he knew he was going to die, even recognised the justice of that fact, proving just how much harm he must have inflicted to deserve such a sentence.

Three things from a photo I'd looked at for mere minutes.

Three things I knew to be the truth.

Eric had killed that man. Murder, but not in cold blood. Revenge is better served cold, they say. I disagree. Survival is but a split second away from vengeance, and it's dirty and frantic and desperate and savage and vicious and honest and aching and full of every ounce of your being that you have. There is nothing cold about it.

And Eric had survived.

I wanted the courage it must have taken him in that moment. I wanted it desperately.

"Well, well," Jaxon murmured, making me crack my eyelids and look across the room to him still sitting at his desk. "We have a shadow in our building."

A shadow? Did he mean the bug?

"Nick Anscombe is quicker to respond than I thought. Clearly not aware of what's about to happen at his sister-in-law's shop, otherwise they'd all be on High Street. Maybe if he gets an update, he'll redirect them," he muttered.

I wanted to get up and go see what Jaxon was talking about. I wanted to be prepared for whatever horrendous thing he had planned.

"The clock is ticking, boys," he said with no small amount of humour. "The countdown has begun."

My heart pounded in my chest, my blood pumped relentlessly through my veins. The bomb. He'd activated the bomb. I had to hope Eric had heard the threat and cleared the café out. But I couldn't even be sure that bug was working.

I fingered the dragon on my bracelet, wanting to send a warning that things had gone bad. But if I pressed that alarm, Eric would concentrate on here and not Sweet Seduction. He'd track my watch signal and be too far away to help Gen in her store.

I had to know. I had to see what Jaxon was up to, then if I got the chance to intervene I'd be prepared.