Wicked Temptation

by Linda Verji

  And Danny and Misha were alone again.

  No longer distracted, her gaze collided with his. The desire in her eyes had been replaced by interest in Katherine and Eric’s conversation. He was sure he could see her pulse throbbing at her neck as she shifted her body slightly against him, sending frissons of arousal pulsing through him.

  She wanted him.

  She really did. She wanted him.

  Not as her best-friend, but as a man, a lover. The sense of elation that filled him was incomparable. After all these years, he finally had her where he wanted her - wanting him. He lowered his head intent on kissing her but just as his lips neared hers, she turned her head. His lips grazed her cheek harmlessly. And with that they were back to square one.

  "Danny, no." Her husky denial cut into his euphoria like a sharp knife.

  He wanted to ask her why. He wanted to ignore her protest, lower his head and continue their kiss from where they'd left off. He wanted to strip that dress from her so he could get a real look at her delectable body. How he wanted to lift her onto the counter and fit himself between her thighs. How he wanted…

  But she'd said no.

  Again.

  It took everything he had to let his hands fall and to step away from her. He spun around to give her his back as with a rough voice he said, "Put on your dress."

  What was that? Misha hands trembled slightly as she gathered her dress over her head and tugged it downwards. What the hell was that?

  What they’d done when they were fifteen was kissing. This. This was something else. Whatever they’d done today, well, she had no idea what that was. She was still reeling with the after effects of whatever it is Danny had done to her. Her pulse still hadn’t settled, her nipples were still hard and her thighs were still tingling.

  The way he’d held her; the way he’d kissed her. Just the thought of how his lips had plundered hers constricted her throat and sent a flood of fevered tingling to every erogenous part of her body. That wasn’t the kiss of a man who thought of her as nothing more than a friend.

  "Are you decent yet?" Danny interrupted her thoughts, his voice a note deeper than it usually was.

  "A minute," Misha managed despite her dry mouth and the questions bouncing in her head. She tugged the dress lower down her hips. Was he still attracted to her or had he been just in the moment? Licking her lips, she started, "Danny, about the kiss-"

  He cut into her words gruffly, "We don't need to talk about it. It was just for Katherine."

  So he said. But that didn’t explain the hard thick lump that had pushed against her stomach right up until he’d turned his back to her. Or the lingering touches even when it was clear Katherine wasn’t coming into the bathroom. Or the heavy tension still thrumming in the room like a rope stretched beyond its elasticity.

  He'd wanted her.

  Her eyes rose to the mirror, watching his reflection there. His back was still to her, but it was easy to see the stiffness in his form belying his easy dismissal of their kiss. She cleared her throat then said, "Danny, you know why we can't-"

  "Michelle, don't." He cut into her words sharply. "I got the message."

  She hated when he did this; sulked because she didn't let him have his way. "Danny, don't be like that."

  "Don't be like what?" he muttered grumpily.

  Misha straightened her dress over her hips, took a deep breath to steady her temper then said, "Danny, look at me."

  Slowly, he swiveled to face her. When his eyes met hers, the desire was gone replaced by a blank look. If she didn't know him better, she'd think he was unaffected by the situation. But this was Danny. She’d known him forever.

  She took two strides closer to him then took his hand. Looking up at him, she said, "Danny, you know we can't ever be together."

  "Misha, stop it. I told you I get it." His eyes flared angrily as he tried to pull his hand away.

  "No, you stop it." She held on firmly to his hand and took another step closer, brushing her body against his. Instant heat flared in her but ignoring it she said, "You're not like any man I've ever dated."

  His lips tightened into a thin line. "I know. I'm not any of them and you don't feel the same about me. Got it."

  "No." Her voice rose in frustration and she ran her free hand over her face. "It's not that. It's just…" Where were words when you needed them? The intent way he was staring at her didn't help matters much either.

  How was she supposed to tell him that they couldn't be together because he deserved better than her? That she was a killer. A danger to anyone who loved her. He'd say that she was being unreasonable… irrational. He wouldn't understand.

  So she settled for the next best thing. Lowering her gaze to their hands, she murmured, "Danny, you're my best-friend." She looked up to meet his eyes again. "I love you more than any other man. But it's not the same kind of love. It's deeper. Though it hurts whenever I break up with those other guys, I always know that I'll be fine eventually. With you it's different. If we… if I lost you it would kill me."

  His eyes softened as he cupped his hand over her cheek. "You won't lose me, Misha."

  "You say that now, but what if we got together and things didn't work out?" Her fingers circled his wrist. "The last time things got heavy between us, you didn't talk to me for a whole year. I can't risk that happening again."

  "We were fifteen," he defended himself.

  "I know, but…" She lowered her eyes to the floor. "… I don't want to risk it. I can't."

  There was a long pause then he used his finger to tilt her face upwards. His lips twisted in a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Okay. I'll let it go. If you don't want anything to happen between us then don't worry, I won't push again."

  This time it felt like he actually meant it. She should've been happy at his answer, shouldn't she? This was what she wanted, wasn't it? Then why did it feel like a gaping hole had opened up in her. The hole widened further when he drew her into his arms for an embrace. She tightened her arms around his neck as he squeezed her waist.

  "I'll let it go." His breath fluttered over her forehead before he brushed his lips over her skin.

  It took everything in her not to lift on toes for another kiss. Her pulse thundered as she lowered her gaze to his mouth. Desire surged through her, urging her to surrender to and let her fears go. But a sense of doom swiftly swept in to overshadow it, and with it the feeling- no, the knowledge that giving in to her love for him would only bring death. His death.

  No, she couldn't do this.

  She stepped away from him. Forcing a smile, she said, "We should get back to the party. If the press notices how long we disappeared who knows what rumor they'll start."

  Not that they'd be that wrong.

  Something flashed in Danny's eyes but he only said, "We should."

  "Just a minute." She took a step backwards toward the mirror and craned her neck sideways. "Need to check if the stain is still there."

  Danny's gaze followed her movements. "What stain?"

  "The one I got when Pip spilled drinks on my back." Her eyes still on her form reflected in the mirror, she smoothed her dress over her ass and asked, "Is the stain still visible?"

  Misha wasn’t aware of the implications of asking for his opinion until he straightened away from the door and walked closer to the mirror. His eyes met hers in the reflective surface. Instantly, the air in the room thickened, heavy with the memories of their kiss.

  Danny’s eyes slid away from hers, journeying down her back with painstakingly slowness, until they stopped at her ass. That lingering look was enough to ramp up the heat factor in the room another hundred notches. Misha was surprised her reflection didn’t burst into flames. She shifted uncomfortably on her stilettos as he lifted his gaze.

  His heated eyes met hers in the mirror as he rasped, "No, you’re good," in a liquid deep voice, low and thrillingly gravelly, that almost melted her insides.

  "Th… thanks," she stumbled over her words as she
moved away from the mirror and towards the counter. Looking for any reason to avoid his gaze, she motioned nervously towards her clutch. "Let me fix my makeup then we can leave."

  Watching her run a comb through her permed bob, he asked, "Does the stain have anything to do with why you were running around naked? You should be embarrassed of yourself Miss Alexander."

  Affronted, she protested. "I wasn't running around naked. I was safely hidden in here, minding my own business and cleaning my dress, until you and your cougar decided to barge in. If anything you’re the one who should be embarrassed; trying to slip Katherine Daniel the Second."

  They both burst into laughter at her mention of the nickname they’d given his penis when they were still kids. The laughter was enough to ease some of the tension still shimmering between them.

  "For the record, Daniel the Second has no plans of ever slipping into that crazy lady ever again," Danny defended himself even as his blue eyes twinkled with mirth. "She said she was hosting the launch of her perfume, I Am Wilde, here and she’d like Creative Urban to handle the live special effects."

  While Zeke, Danny's older brother, ran the family's chain of hotels, Danny managed their integrated special effects company, Creative Urban. The company provided visual and mechanical special effects for movies. With Danny's inventive bent and background in mechanical engineering, Creative Urban was just right for him.

  "Still doesn’t explain what you two kids were doing playing Hide and Kiss," Misha teased as she combed mascara through her eyelashes. "Creative Urban only does big screen."

  "Try explaining that to Katherine." In a dry tone, Danny added, "She claimed she wanted me to recommend a few good companies to help her out. Then she asked me to come upstairs to see if their entertainment room was an appropriate location for shooting an ad for the scent. I refused. So she dangled Richard’s name. Saying he was most likely upstairs in the study. Next thing I know I’m in her bedroom wrestling for my bowtie."

  Misha chuckled. "I can’t believe you fell for that."

  "I didn’t." His eyes followed the motion of her gloss-stick as she applied a fresh coat over her lips. "But I was willing to take the chance if it meant seeing Richard."

  "You’re so lucky Richard didn’t see you cuddling with his wife."

  "I’m beginning to think Katherine was lying and he isn’t even around." He released a heavy breath. "I think we should give up and go home."

  "Finally. Thank you." Misha breathed a sigh of relief. Her nerves were too frazzled for her to fake it through even thirty more minutes of this party. "At least I won't have to deal with any more of Eric's stalking again. I don't know what that boy has got on the Wildes but I don't want to be involved in that mess."

  "Really?" Danny's lips twitched in restrained laughter as he leaned back against the door. "You're not even tempted to find out why he was blackmailing her?"

  "No," she insisted but when he gave her a disbelieving look she huffed and rolled her eyes. "Fine. Yes, I'm tempted. But I have got way too much on my plate right now to start on something new."

  Daniel's lips widened in a grin. "Are you sure it's not because you think if you investigate everyone will think you only did it out of spite and not believe you?"

  Good Lord! Was Danny reading her mind? Her eyes snapped towards him. "Boy, get out of my mind."

  His laughing eyes met hers in the mirror. "No way, I like it in there too much."

  Misha kissed her teeth before plumping her lips a few times then sticking her gloss back into her clutch and turning to Danny, "Okay, I'm done."

  He straightened from the door. "Let’s get out of here."

  CHAPTER 5

  They made their way back downstairs without bumping into Katherine, Eric or any more trouble. In the blink of an eye, they went from the hushed silence of the upper floor and back to the festive atmosphere of the party; music, laughter, people conversing, clinking of glasses and wait-staff rushing by with trays. There were a few guests outside the gallery but other than to nod their goodbyes, none made any attempt to stop Danny or Misha. The moment they stepped out of the house, a valet rushed towards them.

  "Do you want to drive?" Danny asked as he handed the young man his marker.

  Misha's answer was fast and unequivocal."No."

  "What's the point of naming my new car after you if you won't even take it for a spin?" Danny asked, threading her arm through his and hooked it over his elbow. He bumped his shoulder against hers. "You should drive. I promise you'll love her."

  "No." There was no way Misha would ever get behind the wheel of a car. Not after what had happened the last time. "And you shouldn't have named her so ridiculously. Why can't you be normal and call her something like Sandra, or Paris? Even Nikki Minaj would make more sense."

  "What? Give her another name?" Danny's eyes widened in mock shock. "Ridiculous. I like the Artemis. In fact, I think I'll stick to calling you that from now."

  "Don't you dare."

  He patted her arm. "Now now, Artemis. You need to calm down."

  "Danny, I swear," she threatened. "I will beat you where you stand."

  He chuckled. "No need to make empty threats, Artemis."

  "That's it." She snatched her arm from his. Lucky for him, a black Lamborghini zoomed to a stop in front of them before Misha could make good on her threat.

  It was easy to see why Danny liked Arty so much. She looked like she'd just landed from outer-space. Bat-mobile like shape, sleek lines, body panels, the glowing green carbon fiber rings that ran around her wheels and the side of her body… The car was a work of art. Even the valet seemed mesmerized by the car, ogling it as he exited its shadowy interior.

  A few minutes later they were in the car cruising out of the Wildes' estate with Danny at the wheel. The streets were quiet at this time of the night. On any other night Misha would've appreciated the quiet, but tonight it was a curse. Each silent second was another second to recall the night's events.

  Tonight, with that kiss, Danny had changed the game. He'd aroused the ache that had been lying dormant inside her, reminded her that he was no longer that dorky boy that she could ignore. He was all man and more.

  She'd never been so conscious of a man before. She was supremely aware of his presence beside her, aware of his body heat, masculine scent, every hushed breath he took, the way his long fingers gripped the steering wheel. Why had she refused his advances again? Oh, yeah. If they crossed the line between friendship and lovers he'd end up dead.

  Bummer.

  In an effort to ease the tension in the car, Misha started, "So how's wo-"

  Just as Danny started, "What did you mean you-"

  They both paused before Misha said, "You first."

  Danny cast her a quick glance before asking, "What did you mean you have too much on your plate right now?"

  Knowing how he felt about her assignments outside the country, Misha hesitated awhile before saying, "NTN liked the piece I did on Palestine so much they're talking about sending me back in."

  "Are you kidding me?" Danny exploded as he turned to glare at her. "You're going back there?"

  "Watch the road." Ignoring his explosion of temper, she continued, "It's not a done deal. But yes. Probably."

  She expected him to start ranting, but he didn't. Instead he held his words. But his body language saying everything his mouth wouldn't. He was staring ahead, jaw tight, shoulders stiff and fingers gripping the steering wheel like he wanted to break it. tapping at his clean-shaven jaw in rapid, angry taps.

  She sighed. "Just say it already."

  "Say what? That it's too damn dangerous? That the last time you were there you were almost kidnapped, almost shot, almost killed? That there are easier ways to commit suicide? That you don't need to get on an airplane to commit suicide?" His voice tight with anger he asked, "That's what you want me to say? Well I won't. We've had this argument a million times and I'm done with it. It doesn't matter what I say. You'll still do whatever the hell you want."r />
  "Danny, this is my job," she defended though she knew that she could get safer assignments if she wanted.

  He kept his silence.

  "It’s not as dangerous as the news says," she tried again. But from Danny's stiff posture she could tell he didn't believe her and wasn't interested in any more excuses.

  The rest of the trip was as quiet as it was tense, his unspoken anger clouding the car like a looming thunderstorm. Even when they stopped in front of her house and she asked him if he wanted to come in, his answer was a brief, "Not tonight."

  As soon as she was out of the car, he sped off as if being chased by the hounds of hell. Misha watched the retreating car wistfully, wishing that she had better words to reassure him of her safety but knowing that they were none. She plodded up the walkway toward her house.

  The Victorian-style bungalow with its three bedrooms and yard was large; way too large for a single woman. But she couldn't bring herself to sell it. Her parents had built this home from the ground up and raised her in it. Selling it would be like getting rid of the one thing that had meant everything to them. It would hurt them. And she'd already done enough of that.

  She still kept the house as well-tended as her parents had kept it; colorful flowerbeds, trimmed shrubs and all. But it still felt strange to be here without her parents around - and lonely. Silence greeted her as she opened the front door.

  After polishing off a roast beef sandwich, she headed straight for the shower. She stood under the spray of water until her skin shriveled, then calling herself done threw on shorts and a tank-top and fell into bed.

  But sleep was hard to come by. Every time she tried to sleep, memories of the kiss she and Danny had shared tormented her. Her body tingled with awakened lust as she recalled how good he'd tasted, how amazing it'd felt to be held in his arms. She tried to remember all the reasons why they couldn't be together, but her body had a mind of its own and it replaced logic with heated desire. Before she knew it, she found herself pulling open her bedside drawer and reaching in for her little 'helper'.