Wicked Temptation

by Linda Verji

"Mm." Misha nodded, keeping her eyes closed as she waited for the pain to peter back into manageable levels.

  The doctor kept speaking while he prodded at her body, "It seems like your memory is intact which is excellent. Excellent." He seemed to be talking to other people in the room now, because he advised, "The bruises on her arms and legs will heal well enough. My main concern now is hemorrhaging or infection of the incision. But we’ll keep monitoring her to make sure everything is fine." He called out, "Michelle?"

  "Mm?" She opened her eyes.

  "I don't want you over-exerting yourself. Lots of rest." He waited for her to nod then his serious gray eyes met Danny's. "Don't overtax her. She's doing well, considering, but she still needs plenty of rest."

  "Of course." Danny nodded.

  But that wasn't enough for Dr. Lyon. He ordered sternly, "Ten minutes, then let her sleep."

  Zeke and Nathan accompanied the doctor out of the room, leaving Misha and Danny alone. For a moment, they silently stared at each other. Then Danny said, "I missed you."

  "I was only gone for a day." She rubbed his knuckles with her thumb. The look in his eyes was that of a man who had a lot to say, but he only stared at her. Fortunately, she knew him too well to need words. She squeezed his hand. "I'm okay. I promise."

  Silence reigned for a full minute. Finally, Danny whispered, "Don't do that to me again."

  Judging from his unshaven chin, red eyes and that he was still wearing his tuxedo from the night of the party, it looked like he hadn't left her bedside. He must've been so worried. She could only imagine how he'd felt when he got the call. Her eyes filling with tears, she tugged at his hand. "Could you come closer so I can hug you?"

  "You're hurt," he protested, but not too forcefully, because he lifted from his seat.

  "Just a little one." She hooked an arm around his broad shoulder and cupped the back of his head. Her body cramped in pain because of the movement but she ignored it as the warmth of his closeness flooded her, seeping through her until it caressed her soul. In his arms she felt protected and loved. Even the pain didn't seem so bad now. She whispered, "I'm sorry I scared you."

  "Not your fault." His words blew between them as he kissed her temple. She let her arms fall back to the bed, as he lifted up. "You should go to sleep."

  "I'm not sle-eepy." A yawn cut into her words. Fighting to stay awake she said, "You should talk to Tony, Tell him it wasn't Kendrick's fault."

  "I'll do that."

  "You'd better." She yawned again, her exhaustion ballooning with each word. "I know how you two can… oh… be… high… school."

  She fell asleep before he could respond.

  Misha drifted in and out of sleep. She wasn't quite sure where her dreams ended and reality started. The only thing she was sure of was that sometime during her dazed half-sleep they'd moved her from ICU to a larger room. But everything after that was a jumble.

  She thought she'd spoken to Nathan's pregnant wife Shakira but for the life of her couldn't remember a word of that conversation. Then there was the dream about her father standing by her bed asking her how she was doing, or maybe that was Tony. Her cousin Aiko had flown in from Montgomery. Or maybe Misha was dreaming that too because Aiko's mother, Donna was there too and Donna had been dead for about a year.

  Had her boss come to visit her and given her a couple of weeks leave? Odd, because Ross was the type of man who'd rather have eaten his own shoe than give extra-leave to his workers. Maybe she was dreaming that too.

  It was all very confusing.

  Even more confusing was the persistent dream she kept having of Eric Ingram shooting at her. Maybe it was a hint that he was her murderous intruder… but why were his eyes so green? Why would he break into her house, anyway? Oh yeah, she'd pretended to be asleep when he'd knocked on her door. Or was that a dream too?

  She took a deep breath, released, then took another one as she tried to pull herself from the pleasant and rhyme-y dream she was having right now.

  "I took one fast look. I saw a dog who shook. So we shook," the rhythmic female voice sang into Misha's conscious. "So I said I want him. But then Kay saw a cat. She gave it a pat. And, she said, I want that."

  "Mommy, I want a cat too," a younger voice piped up. Hmm. That sounded suspiciously like Misha's niece, Seraphina.

  Misha opened one eye, to find her cousin, Aiko Vaughn seated on a chair beside the bed. Like Misha, Aiko was no pixie. Even seated it was obvious she was above average height and had the voluptuous figure to match it. Unlike Misha, she had a full head of jet-black curly hair that flowed down her face almost covering the jagged scar that raced down her left cheek. Aiko was reading to Seraphina, a four-year old mini replica of her, who was seated on her lap.

  Unwilling to interrupt their story-time, Misha closed her eyes again just as Aiko said, "You're allergic to cats, honey."

  "No, I'm not," Seraphina pointed out quickly.

  "Yes, you are." Aiko chuckled. "Remember how you sneezed when we went to Neenee's house?"

  There was a long pause before Seraphina said, "I'll just hold my nose, then the cat air can't get in."

  Misha had to stifle a laugh at that one. Not well enough, because Seraphina called out, "Auntie, are you awake."

  Misha kept her eyes closed but her lips twitched.

  "Girl, we know you're awake. Stop pretending." Aiko laughed. "Get her, Phina."

  The next thing Misha felt was little lips pressing repeatedly on her face with childish giggles accompanying them. Her laughter mingling with Aiko and Seraphina's, Misha opened her eyes. "All right. All right. I'm awake."

  "Yay, you're awake." Seraphina clapped as she settled back on her mom's lap. "I've been waiting, and waiting, and waiting. But you didn't wake up. I tried to whisper in your ear…"

  "How long have I been asleep?" Misha asked Aiko once the little girl's chatter abated.

  "Three days. In and out."

  "What?" Misha exclaimed. It'd felt like a day.

  "It's Thursday," Aiko informed her. "And before you ask about Danny. He had to pass by the office."

  "I wasn't going to ask about Danny," Misha protested, even though she was.

  "Sure you weren't," Aiko teased as she reached for an orange from the gift basket on the bedside table. Peeling it, she said, "We were so worried about you. Femi wanted to fly in but I told her you were doing much better."

  "I'm sorry for worrying you. And thank you for coming." Given how complicated and busy the Vaughns' own lives were, Misha was surprised and grateful that they'd carved out time for her. "How is Femi and everyone else?"

  In the midst of Aiko updating Misha on their extended family, Dr. Lyon came by to check on her and adjust her meds. The pain was significantly less than what it was three days ago and the doctor seemed quite happy with her progress. By the time Tony breezed in wearing a big smile and carrying a large gift basket, Misha was feeling hopeful that her stay in hospital wouldn't be too long.

  "Well, well, if it isn't Detective Wu." Misha's grin of delight at seeing her ex was marred by a pang of sadness.

  She'd met Tony while she was doing the local crime beat, and they’d hit it off immediately. Their relationship had been so easy. They had a lot in common. Like her, he'd fought for and earned everything he had in life. Like her, family meant everything to him. And like her, he was fascinated by crime and justice and his job was more a calling than a paycheck. Nights spent together were sleepless, filled with laughter and long talks about everything under the sun. It was like finding the male version of herself. If it wasn't for her parent's death, they probably would've ended up as husband and wife.

  But like her parents' death, losing Tony was her fault too. A man could only take so much of a woman pulling away from him before he cut the cord. She didn't blame him for breaking up with her. She wasn't fit to be loved by anyone.

  Tony's face creased in a smile as he crossed the room towards the bed. "Hi, Shelly. I see you've finally decided to get your lazy butt up." Sett
ing the basket on the chair by the bed, he bent to kiss her cheek. "You look good."

  "I'd be wearing a sack and you'd still say I look good." Misha chuckled, as she gestured toward her cousin and niece. "You remember, Aiko and Seraphina, right?"

  "Of course. How could I forget such a beautiful pair?" Tony reached across the bed to greet them. For a while they discussed Misha's condition and caught up. However, when Aiko left the room with Seraphina to find the little girl food, Misha confronted Tony, "Have you questioned Eric yet?"

  "I'm sorry, what?" Tony's already slit thin eyes narrowed in confusion.

  "Eric. Have you questioned him?" It all came out in one long stream… "I think he's the one who broke into my house and tried to kill me."

  Tony was silent for a long minute then said gravely, "That's not possible."

  "Why not?" Misha asked. "I saw him there."

  His voice was low and urgent as he said, "Because Eric was already dead by the time you were attacked."

  CHAPTER 9

  Danny walked into Misha's room to find her sitting up in bed and looking much better than she did when they'd brought her in on Sunday. Actually, she looked alive, well… and quite shocked.

  "But that's- that's impossible." She tripped over her words, her eyes wide with surprise as she stared at Tony. "He was at my house a few hours before that."

  Tony, who was seated way too close to her bed, asked, "He was?"

  "Yeah, yeah. He kept calling me and knocking on my door, and I ignored him because-" She stopped speaking when she noticed Danny and turned her attention to him. "Hey."

  "Hey," Danny greeted as he closed the door behind him. He glanced at Tony and inclined his head. "Wu."

  Tony returned a chilly, "Hollis."

  "You two are so-" Misha cut herself off then waved dismissively. "You know what? Never mind." She asked Danny, "Did you know Eric Ingram was dead?"

  "Yes, it was in the papers." Danny crossed the room to stand at the foot of her bed.

  "You ignored him because…" Tony prompted Misha, pretending like he couldn't see Danny either.

  Misha turned her attention back to Tony. "… Because I didn't want to get dragged into whatever blackmail scheme he was involved in. That's why Katherine killed him, isn't it? The blackmail?"

  "We don't know that Katherine killed him," Tony returned.

  "Oh, please." Misha guffawed and rolled her eyes. "Who else would it be after the threats he made? Oh, I should tell you about that…"

  Tony took Misha's witness statement about what had happened in the gallery as well as the conversation she and Danny had heard.

  Tony noted down. "… so you and Danny were making out in the bathroom-"

  "It's not like that," Misha rushed to correct. "It was a pretend kiss. So Katherine would think we were an item and leave Danny alone."

  Tony's expression immediately brightened while Danny's turned stormy. Why was she explaining anything? If Tony wanted to think they were an item then that was his prerogative. Tony prodded, "Katherine came into the bedroom, then what?"

  "A few minutes later, Eric followed her in…" Misha continued. From the thorough way Tony grilled Misha it was obvious he was trying to catch Danny in a lie. The man was so predictable.

  "He called me as I was about to go to bed. I told him I didn't want the story, but he insisted on coming over. When he did, I ignored the doorbell then-" Misha's hand flew to cover her mouth. "Oh, my God! This is my fault, isn't it? If I'd opened the door for him he wouldn't be dead."

  "It's not your fault," both Danny and Tony piped up, then shot each other hard looks. They quickly turned their attention back to Misha who'd subsided into silence. However, the pain in her eyes screamed of guilt.

  "Look, Shelly…" Tony flattened his palm over the back of her hand. Danny's insides tightened in protest at the unnecessary closeness. He was the one who should've been beside her bed, comforting her. But he kept his peace and let Tony take his place. "… Whoever was after Eric meant business. Regardless of whether you'd opened the door for Eric or not, he likely would've still ended up dead."

  Misha was more subdued when she murmured, "How was he killed? Gunshot?"

  "You know I can't share that kind of information with you," Tony said firmly as he sat. "This is an ongoing investigation."

  Misha's eyes flashed. Danny thought for sure she'd protest, but instead she asked, "Have you confirmed if it's the same person who attacked me?"

  Tony returned curtly, "Like I said, ongoing investigation."

  Misha persisted, "Does Katherine have an alibi?"

  Frustration showing in his narrowed eyes and thin lipped answers, Tony enunciated each word clearly. "Ongoing. Investigation."

  Danny's lips quirked in a brief smile. He had to admit it was fun watching Misha rattling Tony's cage. But as much as he detested the other man, he was with him on this one. The less Misha knew about this case the better for her. She needed to rest, not just because of her injuries but from the whole investigation business. It was way too dangerous for her and Danny wasn't sure he could survive another scare from her.

  But Misha had no intentions of quitting. "What about Richard? What's his alibi?"

  "Shelly," Tony protested, just as Danny said, "Misha, you're not investigating this."

  "Who said I was investigating?" Misha cut her eyes at Danny. "I'm just questioning Inspector Ongoing over here." She turned her gaze back to Tony, shooting him such sharp looks that if they were knives, Tony would've been bleeding to death.

  "You can throw me dirty looks all day, but I find you poking around in my investigation I'll-"

  Misha scoffed, "You'll what?"

  "You do know I'm a cop, right?" He reached into his holster and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. "With my own handcuffs."

  Misha rolled her eyes. "Yay for you. But I'm afraid I'm not into whips and cuffs."

  "Really?" Tony's eyebrows shot upwards. "I seem to remember-"

  "All right," Danny interrupted before this conversation went into 'Things I never, ever, ever, want to know' territory. He turned an irritated glance towards Tony. "Do you have any more questions for her, or do you want to keep wasting time?"

  They did have a few more questions. Tony interrogated Misha about what had happened that night at her house. Unfortunately, it was too dark for her to identify her attacker. After a few more minutes of barf-worthy flirting and threats of what he'd do to Misha if she interfered in his case, Tony left.

  But Tony's threat seemed to have had little effect on Misha. She was like a dog that had caught the scent of a bone and was determined to dig it up even if it meant overturning the whole city. As soon as Tony left, Misha turned to Danny, a fevered look in her eyes. "I need you to do me a favor."

  "If it's anything about the investigation." Plopping down on the seat beside her bed, Danny shook his head. "No."

  "It's nothing to do with the investigation." Misha widened her eyes into wide saucers of innocence. "I just want you to bring me my laptop tomorrow. I need to catch up on my work."

  If he didn't know her so well, he would've been fooled. Reaching for the book on her bedside table, he shook his head. "Absolutely not. You'll use it to dig into this whole thing."

  "I won't do any digging," she lied through her teeth.

  Danny propped his feet on her bed, opened the book and pretend to read. Her glare seared into his bent head, but he ignored her and the tense silence that had eclipsed the room. She silently scowled at him for quite a while before she released a long huff of breath.

  He snuck a peek at her to find her staring at the ceiling and biting her bottom lip in the way she always did when deep in thought. His libido urged him to lean over and soothe it for her with his own mouth. Inevitably his mind wandered to their kiss in the Wildes' bathroom. He knew exactly how it felt to have those lush lips pressed against his.

  Heavenly.

  The way she'd responded to him so eagerly. The way she'd matched him stroke for stroke. The way she'd f
itted into his arms, so warm and perfect. The way she'd tasted, so sweet. What he would've given for one more kiss… Who was he kidding? One kiss wouldn't be enough. He wanted more… more than Misha was willing to give.

  Mentally sighing, he moved his gaze away from her face and back to the book. But the words on paper were a blur, his attention was still on Misha. He wasn't stupid enough to assume that her silence meant assent. She was probably running through counter-arguments in that devious mind of hers. He needed to find a way to get her mind off this investigation.

  Then it hit him. "We should go on vacation."

  "What?" She turned her head toward him.

  "You like France, right?" Danny pressed. "As soon as they release you from hospital, we borrow the plane and we head there."

  "You're kidding." She chuckled as her eyes roamed his face. When she realized he was serious, all the humor died in her eyes and her jaw dropped. "You’re not."

  No, he wasn't. Given his attraction to her, a vacation together would be torture but he could survive it as long as it kept Misha away from all this bullshit. Mentally calculating the way he could juggle his projects so he could work from a distance, he suggested, "Or maybe you're thinking Asia. Hong Kong?"

  "You're out of your mind." This time her laughter lasted longer. Her shoulders shook with the force of her chuckles as she shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere until I pin the scumbag who shot at me to the cross."

  "I thought you said you weren't investigating."

  "I lied." The determined set of her mouth and the firmness in her voice said that arguing further would be useless.

  He both loved and hated how stubborn Misha was and how she insisted on handling her problems on her own. He loved it because it meant that whatever she set out to do, she put her whole heart into. But times like these, he hated it. How was he supposed to protect her with her resisting his every effort?

  "I have to do this, Danny." Remorse glinting in her eyes, she said, "I have to find Eric's killer. Eric was coming to see me and instead of waiting up for him I slept. I slept."

  "No." Danny pushed his chair closer to the bed and circled her wrist with his fingers. "Don’t do that. His death isn't your fault."