Wicked Intentions (7 page)

“I’m a New Yorker born and bred,” Shakira said as she set her half full glass of juice on the table. “What about you?”

“From around,” he dismissed before he asked, “What was it like growing up here?”

Shakira was aware that Nathan had skillfully evaded her question but the way he was teasing the back of her hand with his finger and the intoxication of having all his attention on her scuttled her thoughts and she found herself saying, “I guess it just depends on where you were born. I grew up in The Bronx so I can’t really tell you about what it’s like in Manhattan.”

“Tell me about The Bronx.”

And she did. She left out all the horrors of raising herself and instead regaled him with stories about the interesting – and sometimes sketchy – characters who’d colored her growing up. By the time she tucked into her last bite of the delicious coconut cream pie, she was satiated from both good conversation and good food.

It was only while he led her out of the restaurant with his hand on the base of her spine that she remembered why she’d even wanted to see him. It felt crass to bring up money issues after their ‘date’ but she didn’t have a choice.

“I’m just having a few problems with the bank, but I promise I’ll fix everything by the end of the week,” she said as they stood outside the restaurant.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said as his arm wrapped around her waist.

His being such a good sport after what Eve had done to him only made Shakira feel guiltier. She found herself rifling through her bag and coming up with the envelope containing the one thousand dollars. Turning to face him she held it out, “Here, this should make another dent in my balance.”

His brow furrowed in a frown as he stared at the white envelope, “Shakira, I told you-”

“Please just take it,” she pleaded, resting her hand on the lapel of his jacket.

His eyes rose to her face, their stare disconcerting in its intensity. It was almost as if he was assessing her. Finally he nodded and plucked the envelope, “If you insist.”

“I do.”

Before she could step away from him, he dragged her closer. His arm tightened around her waist as he lowered his head. It wasn’t a heated kiss – or even a long one but the subtle brush of his lips against hers and slight nibble of her lower lip was enough to bring up memories of their limbs tangling and his mouth teasing other parts of her body.

Would it be so bad to replay their one-night stand just for another night?

“Can I see you later today?” Nathan asked when he lifted his head.

“Y-”Just in time she remembered her date with Wayne. “I’m doing something later tonight. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is okay.” With a press of his lips against her forehead, they separated.

After lunch with Nathan, she went to a cheaper café to work then met up with London who’d pronounced her officially prison-broken. ‘
Two dates with two men in one day. I’m so proud of my baby
’, London had declared. She then headed out to the warehouse where the rest of her things were, changed into a hot pink cocktail dress in preparation for her date with Wayne.

Dinner with Wayne was not even twenty-five percent as exciting as lunch with Nathan had been. It wasn’t the man. He was the perfect host. He’d held out the chair for her, made nice small talk even bought her flowers after dinner – but her mind just wasn’t into it.

She was too busy dreading how the rest of her night was going to be like.

Wayne however seemed completely oblivious to her mood and had no problems carrying the conversation on his own.

“Thank you for the wonderful dinner,” she said as they came to a stop in front of her car.

“You’re welcome,” Wayne said. “Maybe we can do it again.”

“Maybe. Goodnight.” She stretched out her hand just as Wayne leaned in for a hug.
Awkward
! The resultant good-bye was a cross between a half-hug, handshake and a gauche pat on the back.

“I’ll call you to set a date,” Wayne yelled out as he waved her away.

Whoop dee doo!

The closer Shakira got to her old high school, the downer she got. Her stomach rumbled in protest as her mind conjured up memories of the past but she kept driving. At the gate, the guard stepped away from his post and walked toward her. Even though time had caught up with him and his hair was completely grey, Jermaine’s limp was as familiar to her as the school was. She felt a brief tinge of relief that her bet that he was still around had paid off.

“Li’l girl is that you?” he asked as he propped his arm on the roof of the car and bent to look through the driver’s window.

“Hi, Jermaine,”

“What you doing here?”

“You know.” She shrugged. She didn’t need to explain more.

Jermaine was silent for a moment as he observed her. Finally he asked, “Your mama wit you?”

She shook her head. Jermaine had gone to school with Eve and Eve had used his mega-sized crush on her shamelessly. Shakira felt bad for latching on to it too but with less than four hundred dollars in her purse now, she was out of options.

“Okay.”Jermaine nodded as he straightened up. “Don’t forget to put up your reflector though. You never know who’s gonna pass by.”

“Thanks Jermaine.”

As soon as he opened the gates, Shakira drove in and parked at the far end of the parking lot. Eve had bought Jeanine for just nights like these and the car conveniently came with tinted windows to bar prying eyes and a blanket in the back seat. After putting up the sun reflector on the windshield, Shakira moved to the back seat.

Changing in the back seat of a car was like riding a bicycle. Once you’ve done it, you never forget how. Within moments the cocktail dress was gone replaced by a warmer sweat suit, socks and a jacket. She popped the front passenger seat backwards then clambered onto it with the blanket.

Sleep didn’t come easy for Shakira.

Her thoughts wouldn’t let her rest.

She had worked so hard to get out of this life; kept her GPA high, chosen a course that wasn’t necessarily her dream career but one she knew could keep her fed, saved like an ant and bought a house so she’d never have to sleep on the subway or in a car again.

For what?

What was the point of working so hard when the invisible hand of God was just up there waiting to flush her dreams down the toilet? She should’ve thrown in the towel a long time ago. She should've had her fun instead of wasting her time with school. She should've gotten pregnant by some no-good thug instead of choosing to commit to Charlie who looked good on the outside but when push came to shove was just another rotten egg.

Maybe her life would be different now.

And if it wasn’t at least she’d know that it was all because of her decisions and not because of people like Eve and Charlie.

Shakira buried her head underneath the thin blanket as her tears slid down her cheeks and wet the car seat.

Look where I am now.

CHAPTER 8

“I don’t know what this lady is up to,” Randall Montgomery, private investigator, pronounced, “but if I were you I wouldn’t come near her with a stick.”

Nathan didn’t respond to the statement. He was too busy studying the pictures the PI had just handed him. Even the faint sounds of thumping as workmen worked on the studio below his office weren’t enough to distract him. He shuffled through the pictures shoving each underneath the rest as he scanned them.Right at the top of the pile were images of his target’s previous day’s activities including her lunch with him. Next were images of her at the café and the warehouse.

His pulse jumped at the image of her coming out of her storage unit dressed in a cocktail dress. Pictures didn’t do Shakira Dalton justice but she still looked delicious as hell. The hot-pink fabric started just above her breasts, hinting at the tempting bounty underneath, hugged each contour of her body wickedly before stopping mid-thigh. Resisting the urge to trace her form with his finger, he moved on to the next picture –one of her stepping into her mother’s Honda Fit.

Nathan hadn’t expected this intense attraction to Shakira. Granted the woman had all her parts wired right, but he’d been with other good-looking women. He’d never felt this kind of pull with any of them. One night with her had been like getting a present and then someone snatching it away just after he’d managed to tear off a piece of the wrapping paper.

He wanted to see more.

He wanted to pick apart everything that made Shakira tick and satiate his curiosity. Actually curiosity was an understatement for all the emotions that plagued him whenever he thought of Shakira – which was every other minute of his day. He was curious about how why and how she’d gotten entangled in Eve’s messy business, attracted to the honesty in her eyes when she’d spoken about her childhood, repelled at the thought that maybe even that glimpse of honesty was just a mirage and confused because of the pictures in his hand.

“Who’s this?” He pointed to the image of a red-haired man seated across from Shakira at
Sabine’s.

Randall leaned towards the desk, taking the piece of grass he was poking his teeth with out for a moment to stare at the picture. “That’s Wayne Perkins.”

“And he is…”

“Her lawyer,” Randall clarified as he inserted the grass back in his mouth. Nathan let out breath of relief but his relief was cut short when Randall added, “But I don’t think that’s all he is.”

“Why’d you say so?” Nathan’s voice gave no indication of the instinctive tensing of all his muscles. He was
not
jealous.

“Wayne only represents celebrities. This is the first Pro Bono case he’s ever done.”

“He defended her free of charge?”

Randall nodded as he reached for another pile of pictures that sat on Nathan’s desk. “And look at this.” He shuffled through the images before slapping one in front of Nathan. In it Wayne was leading Shakira out of
Sabine’s
with a hand on her lower back. In the next picture Randall handed Nathan, Wayne was leaning forward as if to kiss her. “There may be more to those two. It may also explain where she got some of the money she paid you.”

“I thought that was her money?”

“Can’t be. At least not all of it.” Randall settled back in his seat with the set of photos still in his grasp. “The FBI has frozen her accounts.”

“Why the hell would the FBI freeze her assets?”

“I don’t know but I’ve got some contacts looking into it.”

Nathan had no doubt that Randall’s contacts would come up with something soon. Despite the hulking silver-haired man’s penchant for grass tooth-picks, dirty fingernails and rumpled mismatched suits, he was very good at what he did.

Randall added, “But that’s not even her biggest problem.”

“Of course not!” Nathan wasn’t surprised. Shakira seemed to have trouble pouring out of her ears.

Randall handed him another photo. This time it was of a man seated in a white time-battered Volkswagen parked across from
Sabine’s
. “That’s Kuthra Alim and he’s following your suspect.”

Given that he was in a car and there were several layers of glass between Randall’s lenses and the man, his face was blurred. All Nathan could make out was swarthy skin, a beard and beady eyes staring intently at Wayne and Shakira.

“Do you have anything on this Kutho…”

“Kuthra Alim,” Randall finished for him. “Don’t let the junky car fool you. He’s one of the most dangerous men in around? Criminal is not a big enough name to describe Alim.”

“What’s he into?”

“What isn’t he into? Drugs, prostitution, gun for hire, cage-fighting…” Randall counted out Alim’s sins on his fingers. “He’s touched it all. He’s been charged with so much shit that every prosecutor in the country knows him but they can’t touch him. Every time they get close to putting him away a witness disappears, a juror disappears and in some cases even the judge disappears. Word on the street is that he’s got a god-father within law-enforcement. He’s freelance right now though, so I guess Miss Dalton is his new freelance assignment.”

“Shit.” Nathan stared at Randall in disbelief, struggling to take in Shakira’s latest complication.

“Shit’s right.”

“Does this have anything to do with Eve?”

“Beats me. Maybe she scammed him out of some money too.” Randall’s expression took on a look of concern as he leant forward. “You don’t want to get involved with this, Hollis. If I were you I’d just go to the police and let them handle her.”

“And say what?” Nathan ran an unsteady hand over his hair. “I’ve got nothing to go on except that I stupidly trusted my lawyer to do the proper background checks on Eve instead of doing them myself.”

“The cops could help find her.”

Before or after they laugh me out of the station?
Nathan shook his head. “No, they’ll only alert Shakira that I’m on to her and most likely scare Eve Dalton further away. Let’s just find her first then go to the police.”

“You’re the boss.”

Long after Randall left, Nathan stood at the floor to ceiling window in his office. Rather than enjoy the amazing view of New York it offered, his eyes were on the pictures in his hand.

What the hell had Shakira gotten herself into?

Looking at her driving away from
Sabine’s
, it was obvious she had no idea she was being followed by Randall, let alone Alim. Now she’d added anxiety to all the other feelings wreaking havoc in him. His instinct was to march to the café where he knew she was and demand that she tell him what was going on. But the part of him that Eve had pricked told him to wait it out.

Patience, Nathan.
You don’t catch criminals by confronting them.

He flipped through the photos of her driving into a local high school after dinner with Wayne and a guard closing the gates behind her. His brow furrowed in confusion at the next picture. As expected it was an image of her leaving the school. What was puzzling was that the picture had been taken in the morning.

Confused, he scanned the next picture where Shakira was entering a gym dressed in a sweat suit and looking rumpled. When she came out, it was obvious she’d just showered and the sweat suit had been discarded for a dress.

Was his mind deceiving her? It couldn’t be!

But pictures didn’t lie.

Shakira had slept in her car.

Unraveling the conundrum that was Shakira Dalton was like walking through a maze with twists, turns and no exit. He couldn’t figure her out because she kept throwing him loops. She and her mother had ripped him off but then she’d left him the apartment. She was quick to jump in his bed but her exit out of it had been even quicker. She’d slept with him and seemed attracted to him but was also dating her lawyer. She claimed innocence in her mother’s duplicity but was being investigated by the FBI. Her account was frozen but she had enough money to pay up some of her debt to him. The apartment was hers but she was sleeping in a car.

What the hell?

Nathan’s confusion persisted through the day. When he finally met up with Shakira in the evening for their assigned dinner, it only grew.

“Is something the matter?” Shakira stared at him through long lashes. The dimmed lights in the restaurant brought out the liquid amber of her sultry gaze. It would be so easy to drown into its intent depth and let passion’s wave sweep him away. Nathan tightened the reins on his emotion.

He wasn’t going to fall in!

He wasn’t going to fall in!

She’s playing me. I won’t fall in.

It almost felt like his face would crack from tension as he smiled. “Why do you ask?”

“You were just looking at me like…” Shakira let her words drift into silence.

“I can’t help looking at you. Why would I take my eyes off a beautiful woman like you?” Nathan said. The flattery came easy since it was no lie. Shakira was candy for the eyes. The white off-shoulder number contrasted with the deep hue of her complexion drawing his attention to her skin’s silky smooth expanse. He reached for her hand and his heart lurched at the contact of his thumb against her skin. Electric.

“Thank you!” Her eyes lowered from his shyly – an action that sent blood pounding towards his cock even faster than her words. Unbidden, an image of him shoving the cutlery off the table between them and fucking her on the white linen surface rose. Finally lifting her gaze to meet his again, she said, “You know so much about me already and you haven’t told me much about yourself.”

Oh! She had no idea about exactly how much he knew. He said, “That’s because your life is so interesting. Mine would barely fit into a brochure.”

“Aw, come on.” Shakira’s face softened in a smile. “Everybody’s got a story to tell. Do you have family?”

Letting her into his life was risky business. But then again sharing information that was already on Google anyway wouldn’t hurt him – it would only make her trust him more and get her in a sharing mood. “I’ve got two older brothers.”

“Really?” Her eyes widened in interest; or greedy delight?

Zeke and Danny were both quite successful, wealthy and any grifter’s dream come true. Masking his suspicion, Nathan nodded. “We’re almost as close and you and London. When did you and London become friends?”

“London?” Shakira laughter tinkled, as the fact that he’d skillfully diverted the conversation flew right over her head. Her amusement drew the attention of some of the diners around him. A few threw them approving looks. Her smile wistful, she said, “Sometimes I think we were born friends…”

How could one woman be so duplicitous yet so honest? Courtesy of Randall, he already knew about London, Miss Wendy, her uncle the real estate mogul…all of them. He waited for Shakira to trip up and fudge some detail but she didn’t. She avoided the dirty bits of her life but every morsel she shared with him was truthful and it only confused him more.

The only person she didn’t talk about was Eve.

Every time he prodded, she quickly skittered away from the topic. He asked, “I bet your mother was proud of you for getting into NYU.”

“Yes,” she agreed then rushed on, “I never really thought I’d get in. I even had my acceptance letter framed.”

“No way.”

“Yes way.” She leaned forward, curiosity tingeing her voice as she asked, “What about you? Where did you graduate?”

She had to be pretending. Anyone who had access to the internet knew that he hadn’t stayed in college long enough to graduate. Nathan debated on whether to lie or tell the truth and decided to go for the middle ground. “I started at Harvard.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “And I thought I was smart.”

He regaled her with stories of Harvard – at least what he remembered of his short stint there. It didn’t escape his notice that if it wasn’t for his covert intentions this would actually count as one of the best dates he’d ever had. Shakira was easy to talk to and it was only by sheer willpower that he kept himself from sharing himself as much as he would’ve if he didn’t know her nefarious leanings.

This was probably how she trapped her marks; made them comfortable and then sunk her fangs in. Determinedly he kept probing for information on Eve – and Shakira kept evading his probes. By the end of dinner he still had nothing worth using.

Nathan wanted to howl in frustration as he and Shakira stood outside the restaurant waiting for someone to bring her car. From the way she’d tucked her body against his, even though his hold on her waist was light, he knew Shakira was expecting him to ask her to his place. Her agreement was guaranteed.

He didn’t bother lying to himself. His brain and his body had been operating on different wave lengths ever since he’d met Shakira. His brain wanted retribution while his dick just wanted to get it in. It taunted his thoughts with Technicolor images of a naked Shakira screaming underneath him, clawing at his shoulders, her thighs wound tight around him and her pussy milking his cock. He wanted her so badly that each brush of her body against his was like touching a live wire. He was on high alert.

However his inability to wheedle information on Eve out of her had him on edge. If he took her home tonight, he was liable to voice his frustration and ruin his plans. He needed some distance to fortify himself against her charms.