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Wicked Temptation

Page 8

by Linda Verji


  She stared at the bed covers and murmured, "If I'd waited up for him, I could've let him in and-"

  "Michelle, stop." He rose from the seat to sit on the edge of her bed so they could be closer. Tilting her chin upwards so their gazes met, he added, "Stop building Eric up in your mind as some kind of martyr who needs to be avenged. We both know he wasn't exactly walking the straight and narrow."

  "That doesn't mean he deserved to die," she said, her voice achingly small.

  "No, he didn't." Danny cupped her cheek. "But you heard what Tony said. Eric's death was most likely a product of his own mistakes, not something you did. He tangled with the wrong people and paid the price. In fact, if it wasn't for him, you wouldn't be in here."

  Danny let the silence stretch between them, willing her to believe his words. The last thing Misha needed was Eric Ingram on her conscience. She was quiet for a while then her lips quirked in a smile. "You just agreed with Tony."

  Danny chuckled. "I can already feel hell freezing and see the pigs flying." Playing with her fingers, he urged, "Promise me you'll let Tony handle this one."

  "No, I-"

  "Hear me out," Danny cut in. Latching onto the only rational excuse he could think of, he said, "Misha you just underwent a splenectomy. You're not well enough to be running around after murderers." Misha's lips parted, but he rushed on before she could speak, "Besides, you're the one who's always telling me what a great cop Bruce Lee is. Let him do his job."

  "Wow. Did you just pull the Bruce Lee card?"

  "I'm just saying," he pointed out. "You were just involved in an accident. You need a break. Time to recover."

  "I feel fine," she denied.

  Danny narrowed his eyes. "Misha."

  She eyed him then huffed, "Fine. I'll try to let them handle the investigation."

  "Trying isn't enough."

  "I'll try very hard," she offered. His response was a hard stare that had her pleading, "Very, very hard?" He simply stared at her. Snatching her hand from his, she sniffed, "God, Danny. When did you become such a pushy bore?"

  "Promise," he persisted.

  "Ugh." She conceded reluctantly, "Fine. I'll leave this one for Tony."

  And Misha fully intended on keeping that promise. Really, she did. Like a monk being tempted by a stripper, she valiantly resisted the constant niggling of her nosy instincts and focused on recovering. However, nine days into her stay in the hospital and Misha was ready to eat her own foot.

  Frankly, she hated it in here and couldn't wait to get the hell out.. She hated the smell of disinfectant that clung to its white walls. All it did was remind her of the last time she was here, watching her parents die. She hated the abnormal silence, punctuated only by eerie beeping sound of machines, that eclipsed the hospital by night. She missed the sounds of barking dogs, caterwauling cats, hooting cars, Geneva haranguing her grandkids. Heck, she even missed the bi-weekly fight fests that the Millers across the road entertained the neighborhood with.

  And the food - horrible. It tasted like someone had gone through it picking out all the sugar, fat and salt. What Misha wouldn't have done for a nice, juicy steak or a fat-filled bag of chips? Then there was the clothes - or was it cloth, because it was the same thing day in day out. How is it that no one had invented hospital gowns that made patients look, and feel, good? She couldn't even stand up to go to the loo when she had visitors unless she was into exhibitionism.

  Oh yeah… the visitors.

  You never know how many people you've got on your rolodex until you have a wedding or a funeral. Well, Misha had decided that she knew way too many people. There were her coworkers, her neighbors, Danny's brothers, along with other random acquaintances. Even the hospital staff had taken to teasing her about her revolving door and flower 'garden'. The moment one person left, another came in. Between the constant visitors and Aiko and Danny's fawning, Misha was ready to scream her head off.

  Thank God she was leaving tomorrow.

  To add icing to the cake, she was all alone today, no visitors or watchers. Danny was at work. Aiko was at Misha's house cleaning up. And everyone else seemed to have forgotten that Misha existed. Awesome!

  Misha sighed happily as she flicked her finger over the screen of her tablet, paging through the electronic version of Peter Flannery's newest thriller novel. She'd just gotten to a juicy chapter of the book; a foot chase between the hero and a group of rogue spooks, when someone knocked at her door.

  Scrunching her face in irritation, Misha looked up… and almost dropped her tablet in shock. "Katherine?"

  CHAPTER 10

  So it was true; you could make a wolf look like a sheep with the right kind of lipstick. That Cerise pink lipstick certainly made Katherine Wilde look pretty, and it matched perfectly with her snug pink dress. Actually snug was an understatement. Someone must've stitched Katherine into the dress because it clung to her like a second skin. The neck was cut so low, her puppies looked like they were about to jump out barking.

  "Surprised to see me?" The willowy blonde pranced into the room with the confidence of a despotic queen.

  Was she here to finish the job she'd started? Misha's eyes flew towards the door, measuring the distance between it and the bed. Too far… besides she wasn't in running shape. Should she scream? By the time help got here she'd have a bullet between her eyes, but at least Katherine would be caught red-handed. Oh, wait, why scream when there was a panic button next to her?

  Misha set her tablet on the bed and moved her hand toward the button. However, just before she hit it, she realized Katherine was a lot of things… but stupid was not one of them. There was no way she'd risk killing Misha in broad daylight and in a hospital that was constantly under surveillance. She was more likely to hire a professional to do the job in the dead of the night. Like she'd done last time.

  Misha lowered her hand back to the bed. Her tone even, she asked, "What are you doing here, Katherine?"

  Katherine ignored the question. Pursing her lips, she twirled around taking in the spacious room; its white walls, green drapes to match the bed covers, white metal bed, the machines monitoring Misha and the sparse furniture. By the time she turned to face Misha again, her button nose was screwed in distaste. "This is… nice."

  If Misha wasn't so curious about what the cougar was doing here, she would've tossed her skinny behind out of her 'nice' room. "What do you want, Katherine?"

  "I wanted to check on you." Katherine lips stretched into a smile. Misha wasn't sure if the smile didn't crease the woman's face because it was fake or because of all the botox. The blonde continued, "You and I haven't always had the best of relationships but that doesn't mean that I don't care about you."

  Misha's arched her eyebrows. "Really?"

  "Really." Katherine set her expensive looking white, boxish purse right on Misha's leg and settled on the edge of the bed.

  Misha winced in pain. "Could you move your purse?"

  "Oops, sorry." The blonde gasped as she lifted the purse to her lap. If insincerity was a perfume, Katherine would be reeking of it. Her toothy smile back in place, she patted Misha's arm. "How are you feeling, dear?"

  Dear? Really? The woman was piling it on thick… way too thick. Misha's gut said Katherine was here to feel her out, find out what she knew. Well, two could play at that game. Covertly flicking the record icon on her tablet, Misha offered the blonde her own fake smile. "I know, Katherine."

  Katherine's smile drooped slightly, but the cheery note remained in her voice. "Know what?"

  "Everything." Hoping to push Katherine into confessing her crimes, Misha repeated, "Everything. Every little thing. You, Eric, the night of the party… everything."

  Katherine's smile dropped like an anchor and panic flared in her eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

  Misha smiled. "Yes, you do."

  Katherine's lips parted as if in denial, then snapped shut again. She glared at Misha. Misha glared right back, waiting for her confession and the inevi
table cash offer. People of Katherine's ilk always thought money could make any problem disappear.

  But apparently Katherine had different ideas because she grabbed Misha's wrist. Her nails digging into Misha's wrist, she bit out, "Listen here, you nosy little bitch. If I find that you've printed out anything in your dirty little rug. I'll-"

  "Get your hands off me." Misha yanked her arm away from the woman's grip and surveyed her coldly. "Tell me, Katherine. You'll what?"

  "I'll destroy you." Katherine's eyes blazed with fury.

  "Really? Like you tried on Saturday?" Misha taunted, hoping for an accidental confession.

  But Katherine skirted past the trap. Her eyes narrowed into thinner slits, and voice cold and clear, she declared, "You have no idea how powerful we are. I'm an Arlington. My husband is a Wilde and a judge. My son is-"

  "If I wanted an update on your family tree I'd go to Wikipedia, Ma'am," Misha said the 'Ma'am' deliberately, enjoying how Katherine bristled at being reminded of her age. "And I don't give a rat's ass about your threats."

  " You're punching above your weight, Michelle," Katherine gritted between tiny teeth. "Don't mess with me."

  Misha guffawed. "Is that a threat?"

  "It's the truth. You think you can take me?" Katherine sneered. "All because of your little job at NTN? Well, I can make that disappear just like that-" She snapped her fingers. "One word and your precious career will be swimming down the drain, you along with it. You tell anyone - anyone what Eric told you, and I'll take you down so low you won't be able to get a job even writing for a high-school newspaper."

  Misha's sarcastic laughter chimed between them. "Promises, promises, Katherine. Bring it on."

  Katherine surveyed her for a minute before standing up. Slinging her purse over her arm, she huffed. "Keep your mouth shut."

  The nerve. The nerve. Misha was practically trembling as she watched Katherine flounce out of the room. Misha had never wanted to snitch on someone so badly. How she wished she'd opened that door for Eric that night just so she could have something to prick the air out of that blonde bag of wind.

  Katherine Wilde had messed with the wrong woman. If she thought that Misha was going to tuck her tail and continue hiding she was wildly, wildly mistaken. The still sane part of Misha reminded her that she'd promised Danny that she wouldn't snoop around. But her anger won out.

  Promises be damned, Katherine was going down.

  "So? What do you think?" Zeke asked the next day. Like everyone else standing around the miniature model of the future Landa hotel spread atop the boardroom table, he watched Danny expectantly.

  Danny inspected the handmade three dimensional model. Though made entirely of basswood and multicolored PVC sheets, and peppered with plastic lawns and mini trees, it was clear that this would be one of Zeke's grandest projects.

  "What are your plans for the exterior wall structure?" Danny turned his attention to Tawny Briggs, the structural engineer.

  "I was thinking Stucco…" She went to explain her reasoning.

  Danny listened keenly, offering his own suggestions to her plans. Normally, he would've been the one handling this part of the building process for the Landa Group Of Hotels, but he was too tied up at Creative Urban right now. Once he was sure that Tawny and her team knew what they were doing, he gave his brother the nod.

  "This will cost us big," Danny said, once they were alone in the boardroom.

  "We can afford it," Zeke dismissed as he traced one of the model's wooden towers.

  Sitting on the edge of the long table, Danny said, "I'm surprised Mother approved the design."

  "She didn't." Zeke added calmly, "I convinced the board to outvote her."

  "Ho, Boy." Danny whistled. "No wonder she's still sulking in London. How bad was it?"

  "She threatened to fire me and make you CEO."

  "God, no." Danny shuddered. The last thing he wanted was Zeke's job. Too many negotiations, press conferences, dealing with their mother… No, thanks!

  "Don't worry, you're safe." Zeke laughed. "Once she cools down and thinks it over she'll realize that I'm about to build her a goldmine."

  "Yeah, and when she does she'll swear that it was her idea." Danny tilted his wrist to glance at his watch. He straightened to his full height when he saw the time. "I need to leave. Misha's being released from hospital today."

  "I already talked to the hospital and they know we're settling the bill," Zeke said.

  "Can you hold on that? I want to talk to Misha about it first." He already knew she wouldn't like what he'd done yesterday when she thought he was at work. He didn't need her griping at him for paying her bill as well.

  As for his previous day's activities… well, too bad. Like it or not, Misha would have to accept that this was how it was going to be for the foreseeable future.

  "Fine." Zeke nodded as he took off his spectacles and rubbed his eyes. Thinking the conversation was over, Danny was about to bid his brother adieu, when out of the blue Zeke asked, "Have you told her?"

  Danny's brow furrowed in confusion. "Have I told her what?"

  Zeke put on his spectacles, training his intense gaze on Danny. "Have you told Misha that you're in love with her?"

  Danny sucked in a sharp breath. He'd never told anyone how he felt about Misha, not even his brothers. Sure, they teased him about her being his girlfriend, but it'd always been in jest, or so he thought. "I.." he started but stopped because he didn't know what to say.

  "You should tell her," Zeke said.

  "I already did." His gaze on his feet, Danny confessed, "She doesn't feel the same way."

  "Really?" The surprise in Zeke's voice was real enough to draw Danny's eyes to him. "She could've fooled me."

  "Yeah, well. It happens." Danny shrugged. "I'll talk to you later." He started for the door but stopped midway and turned to face his brother. "What do you mean she could've fooled you?"

  "She looks at you the same way you look at her," Zeke said simply.

  Danny replayed his brother's statement as he drove to the hospital. Was he wrong to assume that Misha had no romantic feelings for him but was too scared to tell him outright? Did she love him in the same way he loved her?

  Zeke wasn't the most observant person when it came to relationships. In fact Danny doubted he'd even noticed Misha's teenage crush. For him to note anything it had to be right in front of him and spelt in capital letters. What had he seen that had him convinced Misha was in love with Danny?

  She looks at you the same way you look at her.

  Danny tried to conjure an image of how Misha looked at him as he waited in traffic. All he came up with was her liquid brown eyes lighting up whenever he entered a room. The way they softened whenever she stared up at him. How her gaze followed him when she thought he wasn't looking. Were it any other woman he would've assumed it was a sign that she was interested in him. But this was Misha, his best-friend. Or was it that same friendship that had blinded him to what was right in front of him.

  She looks at you the same way you look at her.

  Such a simple statement. Yet if it was true, it changed the whole game.

  CHAPTER 11

  Misha was worried.

  Ever since Danny had walked into her room, and found her and Aiko packing up her things so she could leave the hospital, he'd been sneaking glances at her. Long lingering glances that made her self-conscious - and a little turned on.

  Why was he looking at her like that? Did he know about Katherine's visit or was he just suspicious? Any moment now she expected him to confront her about Katherine. Sure, she should've told him about that she-devil's visit, but Misha knew how he'd react. He'd get mad, go confront Katherine, then come back and tell Misha to let the cops handle it- which she was not doing. Sorry.

  Sure, she knew that sooner or later he'd figure out that she was investigating but she didn't expect it to be this fast. She avoided his gaze and tried to look less guilty, while deep inside she prayed. Please, let him just be suspic
ious.

  "You'll need to pick these from the pharmacy downstairs," Dr Lyon said as he handed Misha a paper where he'd jotted down her medication."They should deal with any pain you might experience. But if you notice any redness, swelling or blood at the operation site then you need to come in immediately."

  "Okay." Misha nodded.

  "You might be tempted to spend your recovery sitting down," the doctor advised, "but the best thing for you now is to walk a lot…"

  He went on to explain the activities she was allowed to do. Exercise but nothing too strenuous, don't carry anything over thirty pounds, drink enough water and liquids, no alcohol or drugs, come in for your immunizations, carefully clean the operation site, another check-up in two weeks time… By the time the doctor was done her head was spinning with everything she needed to do.

  "Are you sure there's no instruction manual or something," she complained. "My brain was not built to remember all that."

  His kind eyes twinkling with amusement, Dr. Lyon said, "One of the nurses can write everything down for you before you leave."

  "Don't worry about it," Danny, who was standing behind Misha said. "I got all of it."

  "How exactly will that help me?" Misha swiveled on the bed to look at him. "It’s not like you're the one who's taking care of me."

  Danny ignored the question. "Anything else we need to remember?"

  "Just remember no vigorous activity," the doctor stared pointedly at Danny. "At least not for a week."

  This dude. Misha's mouth dropped open as she caught the doctor's implications. God, this was so embarrassing. Why did everyone think she and Danny had something going on? Were her skin a lighter shade she would've turned red with embarrassment, especially when Seraphina asked, "Auntie, what's vig - vigor activity?"

  "Nothing, baby." Aiko who was standing beside Seraphina chuckled.

  There was a smile in Danny's voice as he returned, "Don't worry, Doctor. No vigorous activity."

 

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