Temptation Rising (6 page)

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Authors: A.C. Arthur

BOOK: Temptation Rising
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Her head fell back, resting against the wall, her breasts jutting forward. Her nipples were hard, kissable. He cursed, opened the car door, and stepped out. Rain sprinkled over his face, falling to his arms and hands as he stood paralyzed by her beauty, her sensuality.

He wanted like never before, craved the touch and taste that had been denied so long ago. At his sides his fists clenched. The time wasn’t right. It wasn’t now. There was more to it than just having her physically. There would be pain and suffering, long coming and well deserved. It was the way it had to be, the way it would be.

“Soon,” he whispered, still looking up at the window to the second-floor apartment of the corner house.

Slowly stepping back into the car, water dripping all over the leather upholstery, he started the ignition and drove away. “Very soon.”

 

 

Chapter 4

 

Today was a new day.

Kalina awakened on time, showered and dressed, and was in her car on her way to work before the first tingles of wariness itched along her spine. Stepping out of the vehicle she looked around, assured herself nobody was following her before stepping into the elevator.

She’d felt this way before, yet today was somehow different. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself that this was a job. She was experienced in working undercover. There was no need to feel like something was about to happen that she wasn’t prepared for.

Whenever she walked into a sting, garbed in her street clothes and black MPD jacket, gun in hand, target in sight, she felt something. Anxiousness. Pride. Adrenaline. She proceeded with caution, always. Knowing she had backup, knowing they were fighting a huge evil—drugs. She took down the bad guys without blinking an eye. She aimed her gun, gave orders, handcuffed and processed criminals for a living. It was an important job, a necessary one. And she was damn good at it.

So riding an elevator up to a law office shouldn’t make her nervous or have her looking over her shoulder. And yet stepping off the elevator she did just that.

Focus.

Walking to her desk, the conversation with herself was like a pep talk of sorts. Despite what had happened yesterday she was back to finish up the job she was hired to do. Ferrell had been adamant yesterday when he called that she find something. And later when she’d stopped by the precinct, he’d been pacing in his office. She remembered thinking he’d looked like some kind of caged animal behind the glass doors moving intently back and forth, muttering to himself as if he were in his own little world. Of course she found that only minutely strange since Jack Ferrell wasn’t exactly the sanest person she knew.

That could probably be said for a lot of law enforcement agents who’d been on the job for twenty, thirty, sometimes forty years. Something about working on the right side of the law tended to wear on people if they weren’t careful. This job could become all-consuming, making any semblance of a normal life practically impossible. With a cringe she thought she was dangerously close to that very description and she hadn’t even been on the force for ten years yet.

Still, Ferrell’s behavior registered as strange, but not enough for her to forget the real priority. Dropping her purse into the desk drawer, she booted up her computer, all the while thinking of what else she’d discovered yesterday.

Roman Reynolds was one hell of a kisser.

That tidbit of information would not go into her report, but she remembered it just the same.

He was also hiding something, of that she was beyond sure. Catching her in his office the way he did called for more dire actions than tossing her on the desk for a little touchy-feely. Actually, the touchy-feely was out of line, but she wasn’t going to argue that since she’d been breaking and entering.

But Roman hadn’t called the police, and he hadn’t fired her. Why?

Keying in a password to the company’s financial database, she thought about more possibilities. He couldn’t know who she was or why she was really at the firm. Her cover was airtight; Ferrell said his superiors made sure she was a normal working girl when they’d given her the résumé and references for the interview with the firm. She couldn’t be traced back to the DEA, either, since she wasn’t even on their official payroll. So why did Roman look at her as if he knew all her darkest secrets? And why did the look make her want to tell him anything he didn’t know?

“Good morning!”

Kalina jumped at the sound of a cheery female voice.

“Oh,” she said, fingers stilling on the keyboard as she looked up to see a woman she’d seen every day for the past two weeks. “Good morning,”

“Sorry I startled you,” Melanie Keys said with her customary smile. In her hand she held a Tweety mug that spoke again of cheerfulness.

A forty-something woman, Melanie was about five foot three with riotous flaming red hair and creamy ivory skin with a parade of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She was a legal secretary. Roman’s secretary.

There was a small kitchenette on each floor of the firm that housed coffeemakers, a small sink, and all the accoutrements to having a hot morning beverage. Kalina was generally a tea drinker, but each station had tea bags and hot chocolate packets as well. She was on the main floor with the large kitchen, which she assumed Melanie was headed to. Kalina just wasn’t sure why.

“Coffee??” she said as if reading Kalina’s mind and wiggled her mug.

The one thing Kalina had learned so far being at the firm was that the employees stuck together in clusters. Everybody seemed to migrate into one clique or another. She was sure that if she worked here on a permanent basis, she’d continue seeking the solitary confines of her cubicle. But since her main goal was to obtain as much information about Roman and his dealings as possible, getting coffee with his secretary was a prime opportunity.

“Sure,” she said backing away from her desk. “I don’t have my own mug.”

“It’s okay, they have firm mugs in the cabinets,” Melanie said as they began walking side by side past empty cubicles of co-workers who hadn’t yet made it into the office. “But I suggest you bring your own tomorrow. Just because they load the dishwasher in there doesn’t mean they actually run it, or that it runs well, if you know what I mean.”

Kalina nodded. “So why aren’t you getting coffee on your floor?” That was a question she just had to get out of the way. She had a feeling that Melanie hadn’t stopped by her desk by chance.

“Uck, somebody put three packs into the machine. It looks like motor oil and smells strong enough to have me walking in my sleep for the rest of the week. No, thank you.”

“I see,” Kalina chuckled. “I’m Kalina,” she said since she and Melanie had never formally been introduced.

“I know. I’m Melanie, but you can call me Mel. Mr. Reynolds had me pull the email we were sent when you started. Each time a new employee starts at the firm, human resources sends out an email introducing them to everyone. Mr. Reynolds said he must have overlooked the one about you. If you ask me he didn’t see it at all, probably didn’t even pull up his emails that day.”

“Does he do that often? Not check his emails?”

“No. Normally he’s on top of everything from emails to voicemails to mail that’s come in and is going out. But these last couple of weeks…” Mel trailed off as they approached the front desk. The main reception area was located in the center of the floor, just across from where the elevator doors opened. The kitchen was on the other side so they had to walk through and pass gossip central to get there.

“Hey, Melanie,” Pam said, giving Kalina a pointed look. “Good morning.” Her head gave a nod to Kalina, but her eyes were saying something else.

This woman, Kalina noted, had a lot to say, all the time. If she weren’t so loud and boisterous Kalina might have thought about pumping her for information, but something told her it was best just to steer clear of this one.

“Good morning.”

“You ladies working on something together?” Pam asked.

“We’re going to the kitchen for coffee, Pam. If anyone’s looking for either of us that’s where we’ll be,” Melanie said with a syrupy-sweet voice.

The minute they rounded the corner, leaving Pam and her nosiness behind at the receptionist desk, Mel made a gagging sound. “She’s like nine-one-one central.”

“Like her much?” Kalina asked.

“Yeah, like I want to poke needles in my eye while walking on hot coals.”

Kalina was laughing as they stepped through the glass doors. She was beginning to like Melanie Keys.

“So you said Mr. Reynolds wanted to know when I was hired?” She had moved right to the counter, reaching up to open a cabinet to look for the mugs.

“Here, they’re in this one,” Mel said, opening another cabinet and taking down a cup. When she offered it to Kalina, she tilted her head as if studying her. “I’ve been here for ten years so I know my way around.”

“This is my first law-firm job.”

“Really? Where’d you work before now?”

Kalina didn’t even blink before saying, “An accounting firm in Baltimore. I just moved to DC about six months ago. Needed a change of scenery, you know.”

Mel nodded. “I understand. I wish I could get away. I’ve been here all my life, my family’s here, my job. God, my mom would freak if I even mentioned moving to another state and taking the kids.”

Now Kalina did falter. She could lie smoothly when it was a surface lie, something she’d memorized from the file the DEA had given her. But Mel’s mention of family, of roots was something else altogether. She sort of had roots here in DC; the Department of Social Services downtown was the one that placed her with each of her foster parents. That meant she belonged here, right?

“That’s nice you have a family.” Clearing her throat, she tried again to focus. “You don’t look old enough to have kids with an
s,
” she said with a smile as she dipped the decaffeinated tea bag in and out of her hot water.

Mel had already poured her coffee and was holding the sugar dispenser over it while a steady stream of white emptied into her cup. Kalina liked her tea the same way. It made her smile to have something in common with someone.

“Twins, Matthew and Madison, eight years old, beautiful at birth, terrors as toddlers, and now more than a handful in elementary. Jonathan’s thirteen—cell phone, Facebook, and girls, that’s all he’s thinking about right now. And Addy, a gorgeous sixteen-year-old, plays field hockey like a pro but can’t grasp algebra to save her life.” She stopped pouring, setting the sugar down with a clunk. “Pete and I’ve been married for twenty-two years, high school sweethearts. You? Kids? A man? I don’t see a ring,” she noted, lifting a dark eyebrow.

Kalina’s chest clenched. Wasn’t she supposed to be the one pumping Mel for information? This wasn’t about her, not on a personal level. It couldn’t be. Besides, the answer she had to this question, honestly, was dismal at best.

“No kids. No man.” She shrugged. “No time.”

“Well, you can’t be dedicated to your work. Especially not here. Even though I hear Dan’s brutal to work for.” Mel seemed to go from one subject to another without much effort, which was a relief to Kalina.

After adding her own sugar to her tea, Kalina lifted her mug to take a test sip. The warm liquid filled her like an empty container. She blinked, trying not to think of how pitiful it was that a cup of hot tea and trivial conversation with a co-worker could make her feel just a little more complete.

“He’s been okay so far. What’s Mr. Reynolds like to work for? He seems a bit rigid.” As rigid and unyielding as a pit bull.

“Oh.” Mel waved a hand, her silver charm bracelet dangling on her left arm. “He’s all right once you get used to him and his moods. I’ve been with him long enough to know exactly how to deal with him. Today, for example, he has depositions all morning; they’ll break for lunch and he’ll close himself up in his office. Then, if the morning sessions haven’t completed, he’ll go back into the conference room and chew the other attorney’s ass out a little more. Then he’ll return to his office where he’ll brood until about six, then he’ll go home. Now, tomorrow—” Mel kept right on talking as they walked toward the door, mugs in hand.

“Tomorrow is Friday. He has this big gala to go to at the Linden Hotel. The cleaners already called about his tux being ready. I’ll pick that up at lunch today.”

“Does he like going to political parties?” It hadn’t slipped Kalina’s mind that Roman could be shielded by some higher-up in the US government, hence explaining why they hadn’t been able to pin anything on him up to this point. Besides, that was the name of the game here in DC—I wash your back, you wash mine. It would be no surprise if there was a contact or two in government helping him. “Does he usually take a date?”

Mel stopped. Her head tilted again in that way that Kalina was beginning to realize meant she had questions coming. “Are you interested in him? Of course you are,” she answered herself. “Every woman with eyes is hot for Rome. But let me give you a piece of advice, he doesn’t like timid women. So if you want him, go for it. Don’t dilly-dally around. Just make your move.”

They were back at Kalina’s cubicle by this time so she stopped, looked at Melanie Keys, and admitted she liked the woman. “I won’t be making any move. He’s not my type. I just remember seeing articles in the paper about his very active love life.”

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