Tempted & Taken

by Rhenna Morgan

  “So?” Zeke said. “Identities get mixed up all the time these days.”

  “Yeah, well, I wanted to know for sure, so we combed her place.” Knox whipped out his phone, flipped to the image he’d snapped from the box under JJ’s bed and passed it to Jace on his left. “I found this shot of both women.”

  Jace set the remote aside and zoomed in on the picture. “So, where’s the redhead now?”

  “No clue,” Knox said, “but I can’t find any recent pictures of her.”

  Axel rounded behind Jace on the sofa and studied the picture over his shoulder. “You’re thinkin’ foul play?”

  “Thought,” Knox clarified. “I set up a meeting two days ago to see what her business deal was, and Beckett’s impression after tailing her was right. No way she’s a killer. If she is, she’s the best damned actress I’ve ever met. But she’s definitely hiding. Or more accurately running. From who, I still don’t know.”

  “What was the business deal?” Trevor asked.

  Beckett aimed an I told you so look at him and Danny chuckled.

  Knox rolled his eyes and blew them both off. “She found out I’ve got a history of mentoring coders and wanted to offer a trade—my coaching in exchange for her services. Traces or administrative work. Whatever I need.”

  Zeke leaned forward and plunked his empty Bohemia Weiss on the oversize wood tray situated in the center of the huge ottoman. “I thought she was a skip tracer.”

  “She is,” Knox said, “but she wants more. Says she doesn’t like finding people who don’t want to be found.”

  Danny tipped the top of his beer toward Knox. “Which ties in with the whole assumed identity. If she didn’t like the job, why start it in the first place?”

  “Exactly,” Knox said.

  Jace tossed Knox’s phone across the ottoman to Zeke and Trevor’s side of the couch. “So, what happened to the first JJ?”

  “She’s MIA,” Beckett said. “No death certificate. No new sightings. She’s just gone.”

  “And you think blondie engineered all this?” Axel said to Knox.

  “Not sure engineered is the right word. My guess, it’s more a case of her taking advantage of an existing situation. I do know this. She wants the chance to work with me enough to risk a lot to make it happen.”

  “What makes you think that?” Trevor said.

  “Because she’s got a seriously thick Russian accent. Just showing up for the meet made it clear she wasn’t born on US soil and the real JJ Simpson was born in San Diego thirty-two years ago.”

  Zeke cocked his head. “You call her on it?”

  “Yep. Asked her point blank how long she’d been here. For a minute, I thought she’d scramble for some lame excuse, but she copped to moving here two and half years ago.”

  Danny muttered over the top of his beer, “Definitely a runner.”

  “But honest,” Beckett added.

  Axel lifted his tumbler in salute. “That counts in my book.”

  For a few seconds, silence filled the room, each man looking from one to the other. Per usual, it was Jace who spoke first. “So, what’s your play? You gonna teach her?”

  And there was the question. His instincts had already gone off half-cocked once and now he couldn’t decide if he was solid enough to make the call. Especially considering how she’d scrambled his head through the last part of their meet.

  Knox shrugged. “She’s got attitude and aptitude. I needed a leg up once. Seems the right thing to do.”

  “But?” Trevor said.

  “But without knowing who she’s running from, there’s no telling what kind of attention we’d attract. Plus, I’m going on pure gut. She could still be a hell of an actress. I don’t like the idea of putting her in contact with any of our systems without several second opinions.”

  Beckett slouched deeper in the cushions. “Already gave you my spin. Give it a go.”

  Danny chuckled and shook his head. “You’re just angling to win the bet.”

  Zeke perked up and swiveled his attention to Danny. “What bet?”

  Grinning huge, Danny zeroed in on Trevor and Zeke. “She’s hot. Like Christmas fairy hot. Beckett ponied up one large that says Knox’ll add her to his black book inside of a month.”

  “Not gonna happen,” Knox said. “If anyone knows what a bad idea it is to fuck someone you’re teaching or working with, it’s me.”

  In all of a second, Beckett went from laid-back to upright and pissed off. “Oh, give that shit a rest. You were barely eighteen. Not a man in this room that could think with anything other than their dick at that age. Especially with a thirty-year-old teacher built like a brick shit house out for attention. JJ’s thirty-two. That’s a whole different situation.”

  “No, her records say she’s thirty-two,” Knox argued back. “No way she’s that old.”

  Beckett scoffed, stood and stomped to the mini fridge. “Whatever. She’s way older than you were so cut yourself some fucking slack.”

  Not the least bit bothered by Beckett’s outburst, Jace grinned and focused on Knox. “Gotta say, sometimes mixing work and pleasure works out for the best.”

  “I’ll second that,” Trevor said.

  Of course, they would. Both of them had found their women through work. Sort of. Trevor had truly gone after Natalie while she was on payroll, but Jace had to bribe Vivienne into a job first and then lured her in.

  “You guys are makin’ too much out of this.” Granted, he’d had a whole host of ideas slide through his head on things he’d like to do to JJ while she was sitting next to him, but who the hell could blame him? With those high as fuck heels she’d had on and her sinfully long legs, he’d have had to be a eunuch not to conjure up a ton of dirty thoughts. “The only reason I’m considering what she asked is because she seems to need the help. That’s what we do, right? Just because she doesn’t have a dick doesn’t mean I should tell her no.”

  Beckett paced forward with his fresh beer, took a pull, then murmured, “Mmm hmmm.”

  Trevor grinned at Beck’s subtle jab but gave his attention to Knox. “Ignore him. If you want more opinions, just set it up so we meet her.”

  Danny barked out a laugh. “Yeah, that’s an incentive to keep a girl from running. Line her up in front of seven men with a ton of questions.”

  “Not like that,” Jace volleyed back. Like they handled this kind of arrangement every day when in fact, they only met as a group for brothers. Or meeting a woman a brother wanted to claim. “We’ll set up something casual. She doesn’t have to know what’s up. Just a chance for us to get a read on her.”

  “A family thing,” Zeke added, though his gaze when it slid to Knox had a mischievous glimmer that made Knox want to stand up and pace. “Wouldn’t be the first time we’d gotten together to meet a girl, would it?”

  The fucker. That wasn’t what this was and he damned well knew it. Still, if he protested, the rest of the guys would just jump on the bandwagon, so Knox ignored it.

  Axel leaned his hip against the couch and rubbed his jawline, working his fingers through his thick beard. “We could meet her Saturday night. That’s the next Bikers and Blues Rally.”

  As laid-back venues went, the summer-long gimmick Axel had set up to promote a new outdoor music venue in Dallas was perfect. The premise behind the bi-weekly gatherings was that if you could get people out on a regular basis in the hottest months of the year in Texas, you could damn well support a steady music venue year-round. So far, he’d been successful as hell, packing Klyde Warren Park to the gills with a slew of bikers and every other music lover in Dallas.

  “That could work.” Beckett shuttled his gaze from Jace, to Trevor and Zeke. “The girls will be there, right?”

  “Yep,” Zeke said. “Music. Food. Laid-back. Perfect for letting JJ’s g
uard down.”

  Jace studied Knox, the uncanny shrewdness behind his eyes saying he was thinking the same thing Zeke was. “That gonna work for you?”

  Well, they could eyeball and tease him about mixing work and pleasure all they wanted, but this was nothing more than a meet with a prospective employee. Not some fabricated excuse to get his family’s blessing on a long-awaited girlfriend. Knox shrugged and reclined against the couch back. “Yep. Works for me just fine.”

  Chapter Seven

  Three sharp raps sounded against Darya’s front door, jerking her out of a dead sleep and upright in bed. Her heart kicked and sputtered while she blinked and brought her eyes into focus. Soft early-morning sunlight slipped past her bedroom blinds and blanketed her room in a muted glow. The dim drone of traffic from the highway sounded in the distance, but otherwise everything was quiet. Peaceful.

  She shoved her hair out of her face. Maybe she’d dreamed the sound. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d been jolted awake by a nightmare, but she’d hoped after a six-month stretch without one, they’d finally ceased.

  She dropped to her back, rolled toward the nightstand and fumbled for her phone. Her favorite wolf graphic glowed on the lock screen, a bold 7:02 a.m. displayed across the black-haired predator as he howled up to a full moon.

  It had to be a dream. Beyond the occasional maintenance man, she never had visitors, and they’d never knock on her door this early. She laid back down and curled on her side, tucking one hand under her pillow as her eyes slipped closed.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  Her eyes snapped open and she squeezed the phone still nestled in her palm so hard it groaned. No way that was her imagination. Pulse lurching to a jog, she swept her legs out from between the cool sheets and snagged her fluffy gray robe off the floor where it had fallen sometime in the night. She crept toward the living room, careful not to make a sound. It couldn’t be Ruslan. Knocking was too foreign of a concept for a man like him.

  Then again, it could be he’d merely caught a lead as to where she lived and was fleshing her out. He might be arrogant, but he wasn’t stupid enough to draw unnecessary attention. She belted her robe with a firm tug, gently pressed her palms against the door’s cool surface and rolled up on her tiptoes for the peep hole.

  Sunlight shafted from the eastern horizon, casting whoever stood outside in a vibrant halo. They lifted their hand to knock again, blocking the sun’s rays just enough to bring their face into focus.

  Knox.

  His knuckles connected with the thick wood and she jumped back, the lingering vibration zinging through her body as powerful as a live current.

  “Just a minute.” She winced at her obviously frazzled voice and combed her fingers through her hair. So much for making a solid follow up impression. She might not wear heavy makeup most days, but she’d at least like to have a little on when face-to-face with a prospective boss. Even nearing her third year in America, she’d yet to shake the need impressed on most Russian women to primp and prepare before presenting herself in public.

  On the bright side, her short robe was cute with silver worked into the gray chenille and did a decent job of hiding her stick figure. She flipped the deadbolt, braced long enough to suck in a steadying breath, then pasted on a bright smile as she opened the door. “Hello.”

  Knox turned, his hands planted on his hips and a scowl on his face that made her rethink having opened the door.

  Until his expression shifted.

  One measly second and the predator on her doorstep morphed from impatient bystander to focused hunter. Slow and steady, his gaze trailed the length of her, the heat in his gaze thicker than the hottest Texas afternoon. His attention snagged on the deep neckline of her robe and, for a second, she’d swear he’d clued in to her lack of clothing underneath.

  Her breasts grew heavy and her nipples puckered against the soft fabric. She fisted the lapels above her heart to try and cover her body’s all too willing reaction. “Is everything okay?”

  Whether it was the huskiness in her voice or the question itself that broke his focus, she wasn’t sure, but his gaze shot to hers and his voice came out deep and rumbling like it was hard to speak it all. “I woke you up.”

  “I worked late last night.” Granted, the last hour before she’d nodded off had involved a few toys and a whole lot of sexual frustration, but he didn’t need to know that. She stepped back enough to motion him through the doorway. “Do you want to come in? I can make some coffee.”

  He glanced at the parking lot, frowned as though questioning the wisdom of being there and raked his hand through his already mussed hair. Instead of turning her down like she expected, he stepped across the threshold. “Coffee’s probably a good idea.”

  She shut the door behind him, pausing a moment to watch him unhindered while he openly perused her space. The barest hint of his subtle but sexy scent lingered in his wake, a rich black currant mingled with woodsmoke that made her think of cold winter nights spent tangled and sweaty in bed with a lover. His navy blue T-shirt was a little rumpled and had a caption styled like a neon beer sign that read, Live Every Day Like It’s Taco Tuesday. On anyone else it would have looked cheesy, but on him it was cute.

  And crazy sexy.

  Forcing herself out of her visual indulgence, she hurried to the kitchen and set about prepping coffee.

  “Sorry about waking you up,” he said. “I don’t sleep much. Sometimes I forget the rest of the world doesn’t suffer that problem.”

  She stole a peek over one shoulder.

  He stood with hands planted on each hip and stared up at the winter wolves painting JJ had given her for her first Christmas in America. Even without Knox’s attention aimed her direction, energy fairly poured off him. So much so, she wasn’t entirely sure plying him with more caffeine was a good idea. He already looked like he’d downed three pots of coffee and a few Red Bulls for good measure. “It’s okay. My alarm would have gone off in another thirty minutes anyway.”

  As soon as she pushed the brew button, he faced her, which made her wonder if he hadn’t been clued in to her every move the entire time. He prowled forward, eyes roving her apartment as though cataloguing every inch. Glancing back toward her bedroom, his gait hitched the tiniest bit when his gaze landed on her disheveled bed. He recovered fast, though, locking stares with her and motioning toward her desk chair with a jerk of his head. “Sit.”

  “It would be rude to sit while you stood.” She motioned to the couch behind him. “We can sit there if you like.”

  He grinned, leaned his shoulder against the wall that separated her galley kitchen from the living room and crossed his arms. “If you’re gonna argue every time I tell you to do something, me teaching you isn’t gonna last long.”

  “But—”

  “I’m not the formal sit-on-the-sofa-and-chat type. I sprawl. Usually with a computer or a game controller in my hands. Considering I barely know you and my laptop’s out in the car, I’m not gonna kick my feet up on your pristine cushions and make myself at home. At least not yet. Now, sit.”

  She bit back pointing out that she wasn’t a dog, but just barely.

  The full-on smile he shot her said she’d conveyed the thought regardless. “You sure you want to work with me?”

  Lifting one brow, she practically stomped to her chair and planted her butt in the seat but did it sideways so she kept him in her direct line of sight.

  His attention dropped to the hem of her robe where it rested mid-thigh and his smile slipped.

  For a second, she couldn’t breathe. Could only focus on the building pulse and ready slickness between her legs. The way he looked at her, the intensity behind it, she could almost imagine his touch, warm and confident as it slipped between her knees up the insides of her thighs until he cupped her sex.

  He pushed off
the wall and meandered to the kitchen counter, thankfully shattering the moment before she did something stupid like peel her robe back and take care of business herself.

  “You might as well learn up front, I’m bossy as hell,” he said. “I’ve got a certain way I do things. Nothing half-ass.” He opened the cabinet right above her coffee maker and snagged a mug like he’d been there a thousand times before.

  She snapped taller in her chair. “How’d you know where the cups were?”

  “Why’d you put ’em right above the coffee maker?”

  “Because that’s where they’re most convenient.”

  He glanced back at her, smirked and shut the cabinet door. “That’s how I knew.” He scanned her tidy countertop. “You do milk or sugar?”

  “I can make my own.”

  “Didn’t ask that. I asked if you take milk or sugar.”

  “No. I like it better black.”

  “That because you don’t have a sweet tooth, or because you like to hurry up and get down to business?”

  She swallowed, the tone in his voice making her question if they were talking about coffee preferences or something far more personal. “I like to get down to business.”

  He nodded, but his lips twitched as though fighting back another smile. Turning, he rested his hips against the countertop and curled his fingers around the edge. “Where were we?”

  “You’re bossy and nothing half-ass,” she said before her brain could check the flippant retort.

  This time he didn’t even try to hide the grin. “When Jason was extolling my virtues, did he also happen to mention I’m arrogant, compulsively organized, controlling and nosey in a way you’re sure to hate inside of one week?”

  “I promise you, I’ve met men far more arrogant and controlling than you, and I’m certain I could top your organizational skills if given a chance. So, if you’re trying to scare me off, it won’t work. If you don’t want to take a chance on me, then speak your mind and move on, but I’m not stopping until I’m successful. The only uncertainty is the path I take to get there.”