Risky Temptation

by Hart, Gemma

  “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.

  Tobias gave a half shrug, a look of mock worry on his lean face. “Well, now, I really hope you reconsider because I would hate to have to convince you to take this job,” he said.

  Instantly, Marco’s entire stance changed. I could tell he was preparing himself for battle. But how? We were at such a disadvantage. We had no element of surprise. We had no higher ground. We didn’t even have our weapons!

  I knew Marco had guns in the house but they were on the second floor. Consciously trying to make a better life for ourselves, Marco had forced himself to break his habit of always carrying a loaded weapon. It was a dangerous thing to do in the UK anyway.

  But now, in such a moment like this, it was to our gravest disadvantage.

  And with four henchmen hanging around the edges of the room, clearly itching for their moment of action, we were already set to lose. Without the element of surprise or at least some cover, there was no way Marco could take on four—five if Lestrade joined—men at once.

  He would be killed.

  Tobias uncrossed his legs. He gave Marco a level look. “The Black Saints has tapped you for a job. You and I both know that means it’s not a matter for debate. Either you can accept the job and I can lay out the plans for you here and now in a civilized manner or I can let our men convince you to accept our proposition.”

  Marco slowly shook his head. “You think I’m that slow, do you?” he demanded. “There’s no way the Black Saints would tap someone outside their ring if it wasn’t a suicide call.”

  Black Saints. I had never heard of this organization. Where they a mafia Family like the Desmonds? Although Tobias looked dangerous, he didn’t seem like a gangster. He seemed too above all that, despite the fact that he had four henchmen literally hanging over his shoulders.

  The corner of Tobias’s lips flicked up in amusement. “Well, there’s danger in any job. At least in the worlds that we move in,” he said.

  I watched Marco fist his hands, the veins bulging with readiness. Oh god, I hope he wasn’t about to do what I thought he was about to do. But I remembered all those hours he spent working to legitimize us. I remembered all those meals we shared with Jamie where he looked at the two of us with glowing pride, happy to know he had everything he cared for within arm’s reach. Marco had waited years for this moment and goddamn it all, he wouldn’t let it go without a fight.

  “Last chance, Marco,” Tobias called out. “Listen to my offer or let my men do the talking for me.”

  “Fuck you,” Marco bit out.

  Tobias gave an irritated sigh before giving his men a short nod. Immediately all four men descended upon us.

  Marc
o pressed his hand flat against my belly and shoved hard, sending me flying backwards down the hall. He blocked the living room entry with his body.

  “You know what you need to do,” Marco called out in an unwavering, clear voice before the first henchman threw a punch. Marco immediately ducked and threw his elbow into the man’s gut. I heard a loud wheezing sound echo down to me.

  I knew what I had to do. We had discussed potential danger scenarios before. If ever we were in a situation where our backs were pressed against the wall, Marco’s first goal would be to give me a shot at escaping. Then I was to text Jamie a code word to let him know danger was afoot and to double check that he was safe and hadn’t been discovered.

  Then, depending on the severity of the situation, there were several safe houses to run to. The ideal situation then would be Marco meeting me there.

  But lying on the floor of our hallway, I suddenly realized I didn’t care about any of those plans. There were four men against one. And even though I knew Marco was a trained fighter and killer, there was no way for him to take on all four in such tight quarters with no clear advantage.

  He could get killed and I’d be damned if I ran off on him now.

  I heard a grunt and then a crash as a body hit the wall. But the pained grunt sounded different than the henchman’s wheeze. I peered into the room and saw Marco leaning against a wall, his lips busted open and blood trailing down his temple. He was breathing hard as the four men closed in on him again.

  Okay, Margot. Get a fucking grip! What are we going to do?

  The gun! There was a gun upstairs! So far, it didn’t look like Tobias and the men were armed. If I could get the gun, we’d finally have some kind of advantage.

  There was another crash as a lamp went down. I heard simultaneous grunts from Marco and one of the attackers. I was losing time. I had seen how beat up Marco already looked.

  Scrambling to my feet, I immediately dashed towards the stairs. I’d get the gun, hide it under my coat since I was still wearing my dress from the theater and shoot the first man I could as soon as I got back downstairs. I could then take advantage of the confusion and head into the living room to hand Marco the gun. If we were going to die, we were going to die together. I wouldn’t let Marco die playing the lone hero. I wanted to be with him no matter what the end may be like.

  I had reached the stairs but before I could even take one step, someone yanked hard on my hair, pulling me backwards. I cried out as I lost my footing and nearly fell. But instead of falling, I fell against a hard chest.

  Prickling pain shot across my scalp as my hair was still trapped in a merciless grip. I angled my head up painfully against the small slack I was given and felt my heart drop as I looked up into the glittering cool green eyes of Tobias Lestrade.

  He must’ve followed me out of the room during the chaos of the fighting.

  I jerked forward, trying to pull away but Tobias gave another hard yank on my hair, pulling me closer to him. It felt like he was about to rip my hair out from the roots.

  An iron arm wrapped itself around my chest, imprisoning me against him. And with a strength that his lean body belied, he force-walked me towards the living room entry.

  With his hand still gripping my hair, Tobias called out in an almost friendly voice, “When you’re ready to listen, give me a call. I left a phone for you in the bedroom.”

  My heart sank. He had been all over the house already. Of course he had, you idiot. He had probably already found the gun. Had I actually made it up there, I would have probably found pieces of a broken gun, along with my broken hopes of survival.

  The men were huddled around one corner of the room. The four men were bloodied and battered. One man’s shoulder was hunched in at a funny angle that made me think it was probably broken or dislocated. Another man’s eyes were completely swollen shut and purple.

  But Marco looked just as bad. Crouched in the corner with his back still upright, his face was nearly covered in blood. It was hard to tell how bruised or battered he was because of the smear of blood that covered his entire face. The front of his crisp white shirt that he had worn to the theater with me was now covered in stains of red blood. I felt a small satisfaction in knowing that not all of that blood was his. But seeing how badly he was hurt, I knew that Marco had bled a fair amount himself.

  My chest ached with such sharpness at seeing his battered figure, I wanted to scream.

  Marco’s swollen eyes narrowed as he caught sight of Tobias and me.

  “Let her go,” he said in a surprisingly clear voice. But I could see how much work it was taking for him to maintain the illusion of steadiness. He was exhausted and he was battered. There was a small tremor running through his body as he fought to stay upright.

  Tears pricked my eyes as I longed to run to him. I fought against the arm that held me but there was absolutely no give. I could’ve been fighting against a steel wall for all it mattered.

  Tobias yanked against my hair again, making me cry out. I was sure that he was about to rip my scalp off. I saw Marco jerk at my cry.

  “Use the phone,” Tobias continued calmly as if he was talking about the weather. “Give me a call. We can talk then. Until then, consider this,” he jerked my head back and leaned in, brushing his lips against my neck, “your motivation.”

  Marco growled. “Motherfucker!” he roared before one of the men shoved him hard against the wall. Marco barely grimaced before he charged again.

  Tobias grinned. “Now the sooner you calm down, the sooner you’ll get her back,” he said. “Till then, tire yourself out. You Americans always do seem to have a flair for the dramatic.”

  And with that, Tobias forced us around and dragged me down the hall with him. Every squirm and wriggle against his grip was completely useless. With his arm around my chest and his hand gripping my hair still, he walked me down the hall and out of the house I had just begun to consider a home.

  Chapter Four

  Halle

  “What the fuck do you thinking you are doing?” I demanded.

  Tobias raised a brow in amusement. “Miss Margot,” he clucked, “we’ve only just met. What a way to speak to your host.”

  “My host?” I echoed incredulously.

  Tobias took a calm sip of his tea in response, his green eyes never leaving me.

  I looked around the ornate room. It was a kind of sitting room. There was a large fireplace to one side of the room with a crackling fire that should’ve felt cheery but actually seemed quite ominous with the rippling shadows it threw across the room.

  There were shelves filled with large heavy books all across another wall. The furniture was all dark, shining wood with plush upholstery.

  Tobias sat in a large wingback chair with a small table next to him that held a piping hot teapot and two china teacups. An empty chair sat opposite him.

  My seat.

  What was odd about the room wasn’t the décor or even the person sitting in it—it was the location.

  As soon as Tobias had dragged me out of the house, I had been thrown into a waiting car that had taken us to the east side of London. The streets grew darker as we entered an area that seemed to hold only industrial buildings. There were only a few flickering lights scattered throughout the area, making the place look deserted and downright spooky.

  We pulled up to a large industrial building that had an exterior that was quite gray and worn. Some of the windows were boarded up and there was faded lettering from a previous business that was chipping off the side.

  Tobias had exited the car and then had come around to my side to help me out. But I had sat inside, feeling irrationally stubborn and unwilling to cooperate. At this point, I had no idea where I was and it was probably in my better interest to be a bit more malleable but I could only think about Marco’s bloody face and his determination as he pounded into the men, fighting for his freedom and for me.

  Tobias had stood with his hand extended and when I didn’t accept he had sig
hed his irritable sigh and had reached in, grabbed me roughly by my forearm, and had yanked me out with an easy strength that left me no chance to resist.

  “Now, if you’ll follow me,” he had said dryly as he dragged me into the building, giving me no option but to follow him.

  At the ground floor was a flickering light that cast the entire floor into a gloomy green shadow. At the opposite end was an industrial lift.

  Tobias and I entered the lift together. He pressed a button and the loud, cranking thing shifted as it raised us up.

  I could only imagine what kind of hell I was about to see. Here we were at the end of some godforsaken street, in a clearly abandoned building, with a dangerous psychopath holding me captive. I imagined something akin to dungeons.