Sweet Seduction Stripped (Sweet Seduction, Book 7)

by Nicola Claire

  "Now, it could be regarding the US dollars and he just wants to question you on that. Or it could be to identify something of Harding's; you are listed as next of kin."

  Oh hell, I hadn't known that.

  "Or it could be something else which we have no way of knowing, but I wouldn't put it past any of the arseholes that worked with Harding not to plant something implicating you. So, for now, you go in, you cooperate, but only with a lawyer present. Understood?"

  I nodded.

  "I don't like this," Nick added. "Pierce was acting strange."

  "Strange how?" Ric asked, but I was unable to utter a sound. Currently I was desperately trying to control my breathing, which had suddenly become much too fast and shallow.

  "Like ticked off to nth degree strange," Nick explained.

  'That sounds..." Ric started.

  "Let's just go," I interrupted. Second guessing this would not make a blind bit of difference.

  "All right," Nick said with a nod of his head. "Phone me as soon as you know what the fuck Pierce is playing at."

  "Will do," Ric replied, handing over the reins to Nick and wrapping his fingers around mine. "Let's go," he added, giving me one last long, searching look.

  I'm not sure what he was looking for. But I was sure he saw fear.

  And not the good kind.

  We didn't say much in the car, but the tension was high. Not uncomfortable. Not nervous. Just wary. Both of us. We'd had so much thrown at us over the past few days. I kept forgetting that Ric's world had been upended too.

  When we got there, Central Police Station was busy. But Pierce met us at the front door, scowl on his goatee bearded face, eyes hard.

  "Don't ask. I've been commanded to shut my mouth," he snapped in way of greeting.

  "When has that stopped you before?" Ric challenged.

  "When I got my arse skinned and my badge threatened and my retirement fund put in jeopardy. That's when." He shook his head and snarled at a cop in uniform who got in the way. "I will say this," he said when we finally made it to an interview room. His intense chocolate brown eyes met mine. "I am truly sorry."

  And then he was gone.

  Oh, fuck. I did not like this one little bit.

  We sat down and waited.

  And waited.

  And waited.

  And waited some more.

  At some stage Dominic turned up and I was momentarily relieved to have someone as impressive as him on my side. But as the minutes ticked into an hour, and then made it to one and a half, he was as frustrated and on edge as us.

  Finally he shot up and said, "I'm going to see what the fuck's happening." And stormed out of the room.

  I sank back in my chair and played with my bottom lip, mindlessly pulling it out with my thumb and forefinger and then letting it snap back again. It was better than chewing the fucker.

  "Well, this is fucking whacked," Ric announced. "And not at all like CIB."

  "I've never had anything to do with the Criminal Investigations Bureau of the Police," I said numbly.

  "Have you had something to do with other departments of the Police then, baby?" Ric teased with a sexy smirk on his face. Trying to lift the moment.

  I didn't get to answer. The door banged open and a man stood there, anger and rage on his handsome face.

  "Who the fuck are you?" Ric asked, standing to full height and facing the guy.

  He didn't recognise him. I'm not surprised. He did look different. Trendy rectangular black rimmed glasses, jeans rather than expensive suit. His hair was a dark brown, no longer blond. He'd cut it close to his head as well, accentuating his sharp cheekbones and square jaw. The longer length had previously hidden the masculinity of the man.

  But I remembered every inch. And not just because I had seen it.

  I remembered touching it. Kissing it. Stroking it.

  Oh, fuck me.

  "You let him call you baby too?" the man asked in a threatening undertone

  Ric's head flicked between my shocked face and back to the man, and I saw the moment he realised his mistake in assuming this was just an unknown cop.

  I also saw the moment he decided to throw the first punch.

  It was the exact moment that Jaxon pulled his gun.

  Chapter 34

  Come Here

  Eric

  I was going to fucking kill him. I pulled my arm back, fist clenched, an anticipatory snarl on my lips... and stared down the barrel of a gun.

  Fuck. Fuck, Fuck, fuck.

  "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said, voice casual and so fucking superior.

  He was dead. He was so fucking dead.

  Amber's hand came to rest on my tense arm. I watched as Harding's eyes tracked the movement and a muscle twitched in his jaw. But despite the pure satisfaction rolling through me in a tidal wave, it still took everything in me to release the rage and pick up signals though his body language like I'd been trained.

  He didn't look like a man who had survived a building collapse, so I was going with that being a set-up. He also looked completely altered from the Harding we had known as well; a new look, new style, but not new mannerisms.

  He was about to snap. Brittle as fuck. One well placed barb and he'd go boom!

  But Amber was in the room, I couldn’t risk the fallout.

  "Jaxon?" she asked. Voice small and shaking. My hand landed on top of hers, gripping it tightly, holding it in place on my arm.

  That was almost enough to make Harding blow, but not yet. Detonation, I was sure, was to come though.

  "Amber, baby," he said, and her whole body jerked.

  "I'm not your baby." That's my girl.

  "There's things you don't know," he said, defensively.

  "Obviously," she snarled, and, God, was it possible to love a woman more?

  "Give me five minutes alone and I'll have it all explained."

  "Not gonna happen," I snapped.

  "Shut the fuck up!" Harding growled.

  "Or what? Gonna shoot me? In a police station? In front of Amber?"

  "This has got nothing to do with you, arsehole," he sneered. "This is between me and my woman."

  I didn't even wait for Amber to argue the point. I took a step closer and jabbed a finger towards Harding's chest, to hell with the still pulled gun.

  "Your woman left you. Ran to me. She's not your anything anymore."

  The hand not holding the gun swung. I dodged it, while managing to push Amber out of the line of fire, and landing a solid punch to his stomach. It didn't slow him down.

  Amber screamed, my jaw felt like it had shattered when the hand holding the gun connected, but not before I bruised his kidney with the rigid point of my fingers. He'd be peeing blood for days.

  And I'd be sucking my food through a straw.

  A second hit to the face. The guy was going for modified plastic surgery, at least this time it wasn't reinforced with the metal of a gun. I sent three quick jabs to his side, and when he doubled over, my knee met his chin. Of course, that wasn't the wisest of moves.

  It's been a long time since I've fought hand to hand, no holds barred. The guys and I muck around on the mat in the gym, but mainly I do weights and run on the treadmill. The last time I'd been in a fight like this - excluding that little dance Harding and I had at Champagne & Chandeliers - it had been for my life.

  And my knee hadn't been fucked.

  I made a noise. I'm not proud of it. But Harding focused in on the sound, made his assessment and went for the kill.

  His booted foot hit the side of my leg, but I just managed to shift enough to avoid a future in a wheelchair. I lost my balance, though, and ended up on the floor in an undignified heap. I would have gotten up, somehow, but just then Dom and Pierce ran in the room.

  Yay. The cavalry.

  "What the fuck!" Dom exclaimed, moving to place himself between me and the dead bastard.

  Which didn't make me feel any less like a pansy, needing a fucking lawyer to fight my battl
es. Not that Dom is just a lawyer, but still. The suit and shiny shoes were hard to see past, even for me sometimes.

  "You were meant to wait until the Chief Inspector had a chance to debrief her," Pierce growled. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

  "I was thinking this arsehole has taken a few liberties that Amber will regret once she finds out the truth," Harding snarled back, holstering his sidearm in what looked suspiciously like police issue gear.

  Ah, fuck me.

  I hauled myself back up to my feet, making sure to keep my weight off my bad leg, and took in the scene. Pierce wasn't at all surprised to see Harding, just surprised that he'd barged in here too soon. Harding was glaring at Pierce as though he was a rookie cop, but not as though Pierce would be arresting him in the coming seconds.

  Fuck.

  My gaze shifted to Amber to see if she'd picked up on this new intel. She stood just a foot or so away, arms wrapped around her body, cheeks pale, eyes searching Jaxon's face as though he'd risen from the dead.

  Ha. Yeah.

  Fuck.

  I ran a hand through my hair, sucked in a deep breath, and said what needed to be said.

  "So, you're a cop."

  Harding's gaze shifted off Pierce and turned to me in a creepy imitation of a snake's head.

  "And you're not as stupid as you appear," he offered. Before I could come up with a snappy comeback - and I was working on it, believe me - he held out a hand and said, "Amber. Come here."

  Like a frozen screen-shot, the edges of my vision flickered. My heartbeat thundered through my veins loud enough to drown out the scream I was mentally shouting. And I knew I couldn't survive this, if it went the wrong way.

  I wanted to say something. I wanted to reach for Amber and hold her back, prevent her from moving a millimetre closer to that prick. I wanted a lot of things.

  But when Amber sucked in a deep breath of air, as though she hadn't breathed for the past ten minutes, and I watched her take that first step towards her ex, I knew wanting and receiving were two entirely different things.

  And I knew I loved her, so much, so deeply. Because this shit fucking hurt.

  Chapter 35

  Nick, It's A Clusterfuck

  Amber

  If I thought I'd been confused before, it was nothing to this moment.

  My head ached, the pounding behind my eyes was almost debilitating. But it had nothing on my heart. And wasn't that just fucking ironic? The man I had lived with for twenty months, who had tricked me, fooled me, threatened me, and then fucking died, was alive and well and a bloody police officer.

  But my heart wasn't aching for him.

  It was in agony for Ric, who couldn't even stand on his bad leg, looked like he might have gone a round or two with a heavy-weight champion; blood dripping into his eye, swelling already puffing out along his jaw. And was clearly as unsteady emotionally as me.

  Yet, there was Jaxon. Living, breathing, throwing attitude around as though they were lollies off a Christmas parade float. And I needed to know. I damn well needed to know that I hadn't slept with the bad guy. That he wasn't who I'd come to think him to be.

  Oh, fuck. I needed to know he was still my Jaxon. Not because I wanted him. Not because I thought we'd go back to how it was and live happily ever after.

  But because I needed to know how he'd managed to fool me. If he was a good guy, playing a bad guy, then that would explain why I fucked up. How he tricked me.

  I couldn't get my head around how naive I'd been. I couldn't accept that I'd missed the signs. That I'd chosen to ignore them.

  I couldn't accept that person was me.

  So I took a step towards Jaxon, and I knew the second I lifted my foot off the lino floor that it felt all kinds of fucked up and wrong.

  Jaxon grinned; a self satisfied, knowing grin.

  Dom widened his eyes, lips thinning, jaw set.

  Pierce let out a sad breath of air on a fuck-this sigh.

  And Ric just stood there. Stoic, strong despite a bad knee, calm. And fucking dying inside.

  Harding had taken enough from us already. To hell with finding out answers and soothing my pride.

  I shifted and ended up next to Ric, my hand slipping into his, my body practically glued to his side.

  The silence that filled the room felt weighted. Heavy, pressing, dark.

  "You don't understand," Jaxon said, and there was my Jaxon in the tone. "I couldn't tell you, baby. I had orders. The case was too precarious, too many people sticking their noses in where it didn't belong." That one had been aimed, I think, at ASI. "I couldn't tell you," he added, almost like a plea.

  I hadn't expected this. For him to break down and beg me to listen. It didn't fit the image in my mind that I'd been forced to alter just recently. But things had happened, that could not be taken back.

  "You hit me," was the most prevalent statement in my mind. Which surprised me, because I'd been fixating on his threats to my dad, but maybe they hadn't been what I thought they were. Maybe he hadn't been threatening him at all. Maybe I got it wrong.

  But hitting me. Yeah, he'd definitely done that.

  "And I will live with the regret for the rest of my life," Jaxon rasped. "Baby, you don't understand what it was like. To be surrounded by that filth day in and out. To have to act one way in order to be accepted. The only light in the darkness was you. I felt dirty at C&C, but when I walked in that door at the end of the day and lost myself in you, it disappeared. You were my anchor. My golden lining."

  Oh, fuck.

  I scrambled for another roadblock to place in his path, feeling like I was being steam-rolled over, unable to stop the emotional wash this man pushed out before him. Swallowing me whole.

  "You made me transfer that money to frame ASI," I said, my mind flicking from one recalled image to another inside my head.

  "I had to make it look like I was who I said I was," he argued.

  "You used me to do it," I cried.

  "Baby! They'd been putting pressure on me to bring you in. The only way I could ensure your safety was to watch over your career, to have you close. But to do that, I had to make out you were going to be beneficial for the firm. Your skills essential in their war. I chose that transaction because it was essentially harmless. It got them off my back, moved their cross-hairs from your head, gave us much needed time."

  "Who are these people you're talking about?" I demanded. I'd just assumed it was all him. CEO of C&C Enterprises. The one they all took orders from. But maybe he'd been taking orders from higher up.

  "I can't tell you," he said, then rushed to add, when he saw the incredulity on my face, "Until it goes to court."

  "So, you were sent in there to get evidence?" I asked, thinking how ironic. I'd tried to get evidence on him and failed. I sure as hell hoped he'd done his job better than me.

  He nodded. "Took me five years to work my way up."

  Something about that statement seemed off, but then hadn't his alias come to light about five years ago? I shook my head.

  "What's your real name?"

  "I'll tell you," he whispered. "But only you. It's classified. But I'll tell you."

  "I wouldn't recommend being alone with this man, Ms Lane," Dominic interjected, effecting his lawyerly persona.

  "I'm a cop, arsehole," Jaxon growled.

  "And I'm Ms Lane's lawyer," Dominic replied reasonably.

  "What the hell am I going to do to her here?"

  "You can speak to my client with me present," Dominic supplied. "I'd be happy to sign a waver to keep your name suppressed."

  "Like I'd fucking believe you! You're an Anscombe."

  "And a lawyer," Dominic reiterated.

  "Amber!" Jaxon pleaded. "Baby. For old time's sake. Five minutes." He let a ragged breath of air out, it sounded pained. "Baby, I've missed you so much. We need to get this sorted. There's more I want to tell you. Please, baby. Five minutes."

  I'm not a heartless bitch. I can't be. Because right now my heart was being
torn in so many different ways. Pulled apart by so many different people. And it ached. It actually, fucking ached. My hand pressed into my chest and started rubbing, my breaths came in little, short huffs. I felt light-headed, my legs dead-weights. I was going to be sick.

  Ric pulled a chair over and helped me sit into it, and then my head was being pushed between my knees and he was telling me to breathe, just breathe. His hand rubbing my back, his warmth at my side guarding against the chill of reality. His words a murmured hum in my ears drowning out the silent scream of confusion.

  I didn't want to believe Jaxon. I didn't want to now. I'd thought knowing he was a good guy, playing at being a bad guy, would make everything seem right again. But it didn't. It fucking didn't. It hurt. I hurt. He hurt. Ric hurt. It was a fucking mess.

  And I just wanted it to end. I wanted it to be over. Life wasn't meant to be this hard, was it?

  It wasn't meant to be this hard.

  A sob left me, and then another, and before I knew it I was crying. I hadn't meant to. Hell, it was the last thing I wanted to do right now. Behind the tears and in amongst the gasps for air I heard raised voices and saw blurred shapes moving, a haze of darker colours against the shock of a white wall.

  A jagged movie playing out in stilted frames, a surreal backdrop to my fucked up life, a buzz of annoying bees threatening to sting me. I swatted at them, ended up slapping Ric's arm and, confusing the fuck out of me further, Jaxon's chest.

  I jerked upright, ran two hands over my eyes clearing my vision and came face to face with my ex. Crouching in front of me. Pierce over his shoulder ready to haul him back. Dominic to the side, but within reaching distance of Ric, who was statue still, face hard, chest heaving, bad leg down the length of my thigh.

  OK. Everyone had shifted while I'd had my little mental holiday and now we were close enough to touch.

  "What are you doing?" I asked, voice scratchy.

  "Baby, you were freaking out. I calmed you."

  Dom coughed, Pierce frowned and Ric just snorted. Well, it was kind of a snort laced with a growl.