by Linda Verji
“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.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Nathan said just as the valet brought her car to a stop.
Disappointment flashed in her eyes and her face fell. Summoning a weak smile, she nodded, “Okay.”
Maybe he just couldn’t let her go.
Maybe he was just a sucker for punishment.
But minutes later, Nathan found himself trailing Shakira. Keeping a few cars between them, he wove his car after hers on the highway. In the back of his mind he was aware that Alim and Randall were probably also on her tail. He searched the road but didn’t see either of them.
She turned at a forked section of the road following it and then slowed down at a school building fenced with a high wall of barbed wire. Nathan recognized it as the school she’d spent the previous night in. He parked some distance away watching as she spoke to the guard and then drove in. Startled at the hum behind him, he turned only to find Randall pulling up behind him. The PI gave him a thumbs-up.
He should’ve left then.
But then his protective instinct niggled at him. Where’s Alim?
The only cars around were his and Randall’s but the man could be hiding anywhere, even within the school grounds. The limping guard with a baton was no match for a dangerous career criminal. If Alim got it into his head to do something to Shakira there would be no one to stop him.
Randall’s here.
He didn’t know Randall well enough to be sure that he’d interfere with Alim’s plans.
Just let it be.
He couldn’t.
Nathan backed away from the curb and drove towards the school’s gate.
CHAPTER 9
Thank God, I didn’t throw myself at him!
She’d been very close though. If Nathan had asked her to go home with him, Shakira had no doubt that she would’ve done it. Everything about the man was appealing. Her senses had preened at his unwavering attention. Her mind had consumed every morsel of information he’d given about himself and reveled in sharing parts of herself.
And her body had buzzed – oh, it had buzzed.
Every smile he sent her way, every time his eyes met hers, every graze of his hand against hers; it’d felt like his every move was like a switch that kept on sending electric jolts through her. His effect on her was as strange as it was consuming. She’d never felt this kind of connection with anyone. Not even Charlie.
Immediately her mind conjured up the image of Charlie.
“Bastard.” Shakira kissed her teeth. She didn’t even want to think of the man who’d almost destroyed her life and the time she’d wasted on him. If she was thinking with her vagina instead of her brains she would never have dated Charlie. They were too much alike.
He was the quintessential good boy, an accountant and had pulled himself from dusty beginnings – like herself. They’d met at McPherson’s, where he was freelancing, on her first day there. He wasn’t the coolest kid in the yard or the suave Casanova. He was just this average looking, bespectacled, sweater-vest wearing nice guy that every girl in the office had friend-zoned.
Shakira had been as surprised as anyone when he’d mustered the courage to hit on her. She’d been on the verge of saying no until Eve had shown up at the office and pronounced Charlie the most boring man she’d ever met. That sealed it. If Eve didn’t like Charlie then he was perfect for Shakira.
Boy, had she been wrong.
His memory was enough to make her tag her yoga pants a little harder than she should have.
Riiiiiiiiiiip. The tearing sound filled the interior of the car
“Damn it!” she cussed as she turned her head slightly only to see a gaping hole winking at her where the side-seam was supposed to be. “Damn it.”
She considered reaching for another pair of pants but searching her duffel bag would take another ten minutes, so would changing, and she just wanted to go to sleep and dream of Nathan. That decided it. The torn yoga pants were staying. She reached for her white t-shirt. She was just about to slip the t-shirt over her head when she heard it.
Rap. Rap. Rap. The rhythmic tapping was loud enough that she turned wide eyes towards the driver-side window. And almost had a heart-attack!
Nathan? He stood by the car, leaning slightly forward as if trying to peer into the car while his knuckles rapped on the glass. Her first reaction was panic. This is not happening. He is not here.
“Shakira!” The faint sound of his voice pierced the glass as he rapped again.
You’re not real. Shakira gathered the t-shirt close to her chest and stared at the window willing him to disappear. You’re not real.
He was. “Shakira.” His nose was mashed right against the window, his breath leaving a slightly layer of mist on the dark glass. “Shakira.”
The glass was tinted enough that she was sure he couldn’t see more than shadows playing in the car. Go away. Please.
“I’m not going away.”
Shakira sat still watching him as he kept on rapping on the window. He would get tired soon, wouldn’t he? She couldn’t let Nathan see her like this. She wanted him to see her as the vivacious, well made-up career girl he’d just had dinner with, not the torn sweatpants sleeping-in-cars broke girl she really was.
But he didn’t get tired. He kept knocking and calling her name. “Shakira, Shakira.”
Finally accepting that the game was over and embarrassment was her middle name, Shakira slipped her t-shirt over her head then scrambled to the driver’s seat. Nervousness whirling like a storm in her belly, she rolled down the window.
His first word were, “Hey,”
“Hey,” she answered, her gaze straight ahead if only to clash with the silver reflector.
“Look at me.”
She didn’t want to. She was afraid to see his thoughts on his face; afraid to see the judgment and may
be even disgust. He reached inside the car for the handle of her door. With one turn and a pull on his end, the door opened up letting in a blast of cold air. Shakira barely felt it. All she could feel was the heat of Nathan’s gaze as he took in her outfit and then the rest of her set up. Empty parking lot, sleep clothes, duffel bag sitting in the back seat with her blanket half over it. There was no mistaking what was going on here.
What was he thinking? That she was a fraud? Not up to his standards? Rugged? Tears chocked the back of her throat. She blinked to hold them back and her chin fell to her chest. She expected him to berate her or at least storm off. Instead he said, “Move over.”
She didn’t respond or lift her face.
“Move over, baby,” he repeated. This time he leaned over and kissed her temple. The small brush of his lips against her skin was enough to rouse her. Still avoiding his gaze she moved from the driver’s side to the passenger seat. She’d never realized how small her car was until Nathan entered it. His presence seemed to fill it as did his subtle cologne. When he started her car, she wanted to ask what he was doing, where they were going – but she was on the brink, and she was afraid that if she opened her mouth, her tears would fall.
Nathan backed out of the spot then drove towards the gate.
“I’m leaving my car here overnight,” he said to Jermaine once they got to there. “Will it be safe?”
“Of course,” Jermaine sounded insulted. “What you take me for?”
Nathan’s shifting around was not enough to convince Shakira to turn but Jermaine’s shocked gasp was. She turned just in time to see Nathan handing the wide-eyed Jermaine a bunch of bills. “Take care of it and there’ll be more where that came from.”
“Of course, sir. Yes, sir. You can depend on Jermaine.”
Shakira stared despondently out the window as Nathan guided her car out of the school and onto the main road. She bit her lip trying to ward off the tears but eventually they won and one slid down her cheek. She closed her eyes and pressed her nose to the cold glass as she gave in to them. They didn’t even stop when he reached for her fingers and squeezed them reassuringly.