Wicked Temptation

by Linda Verji

  Misha turned and shot him a hard look. Damn right, Skippy. There would definitely be no vigorous activity between them.

  Once the doctor was done giving them instructions and after signing her release papers, a nurse helped Misha into a wheelchair and pushed her to the elevator. Misha was shocked that Danny hadn't tried to pay her bill. Not that she would've accepted it, but it was unlike him not to even offer.

  What was he up to? She stared at him suspiciously as the nurse wheeled her into the elevator.

  He caught her look. "What?"

  Misha narrowed her eyes. "You've done something, haven't you?"

  Guilt flashed in his eyes but he covered it with an impassive, "What are you talking about?"

  She was about to prod further but Seraphina interrupted, "Uncle Danny, if I push this button will we fall down?"

  "Not really," Danny jumped on the distraction quickly. Misha's interrogation plans were further thwarted when the automatic doors opened on the ground floor and they found Sylvia Poole and her mother, Carla, waiting there.

  "What are you doing here?" Misha asked once the mother and daughter team were done greeting everyone in her posse and Danny left to get Misha's medication. "I thought you two were on your way to St. Bart's."

  "We were." Carla, an older replica of Sylvia, waved her hand airily flaunting gold rings that probably cost more than Misha had earned the whole of last year. "But then Ramon picked up a little kidney thing while he was in there…" She shuddered as if the thought of the word 'jail' was enough to make her skin crawl.

  "… and we felt we should support him," Sylvia finished for her mother.

  Misha's eyebrows shot up. This was the same Ramon who two weeks ago was a cheating back robber who'd broken Carla's heart, right? "That's forgiving of you."

  "He's actually on the first floor recovering." Carla's eyes brightened. "You know what, I have an idea. Why don't you come up with us? Ramon can give you an exclusive. The real story. Once you publish it everyone will-"

  "I'm sorry," Misha cut her off. She gestured to her wheelchair. "I'm not up to working right now."

  "Oh." Carla's gaze flew to the wheelchair, then back up. She offered a halting, "'I- I'm sorry. I forgot about your accident." Why was Misha not surprised? The older woman's expression softened, "How are you, dear?"

  You'd think that Misha's injuries would be enough to put off Carla. But as soon as the older woman was done making the requisite queries about Misha's health, she went right back to pitching Ramon's 'exclusive'. Misha made the right sounds, took their card and bid them goodbye.

  "They look like they want to follow us," Aiko murmured as she pushed Misha's wheelchair toward the exit.

  "They might." Misha urged, "Go, go, go."

  They found Danny, leaning against his car, parked at the front entrance. He straightened to his full height the moment he spotted them. He held the door open for Misha as she lifted from the wheelchair to take the front passenger seat while Aiko and Seraphina settled in the back. Soon they were on their way home - or so Misha thought until she realized that they were headed towards his home.

  Oh. Hell. No.

  "Turn the car," she gritted between her teeth. "I'm not staying with you."

  "Yes, you are," Danny countered. "My place is much safer, and you need someone to watch out for you in case something goes wrong."

  "Nothing will go wrong. I'm good. I don't need anyone watching out for me and if something happens - well, that's what phones and 911 are for." She folded her arms over her chest. "As for safety, my place is just as secure as yours."

  "Not really." Danny shook his head. "I live on the sixth floor of a building with a concierge, private security, cameras everywhere and a crime rate lower than the Garden Of Eden. Your place on the other hand…" He let her fill in the blanks.

  Was this man putting down her neighborhood? He had no idea what he was talking about. Sure, someone got shot or robbed at least once a week and the police's response rate was so slow a turtle could get to the crime scene before them. But it wasn't that bad. She'd grown up there just fine, and she was alive and well, wasn't she?

  "Danny's right," Aiko piped in before Misha could give Danny a piece of her mind. "Your place can't be all that safe. Someone broke into your house despite all the security you've got."

  "Don't do that." Misha cut her eyes at Aiko through the rearview mirror. "You're my cousin, not his cheering squad."

  "I'm your cousin," Aiko agreed, but then ruined it by adding, "which is why I care about your safety and your health. I helped him move you into his place. I'm leaving tomorrow and I want to make sure you're taken care of."

  "I can't believe this." Misha rubbed her forehead in frustration. "You're both making this out to be way more than what it was. So my security failed - I'll get a new provider. As for my injuries, I'm already feeling much better."

  She couldn't live with Danny. Not with the way she felt about him. Having him around her, taking care of her, day and night, would be absolute torture. How the hell was a woman supposed to keep her sanity with such temptation? Then there was the little issue of her investigation. Having Danny hovering around her would make it so much harder to snoop. Nope. No way.

  "You're not completely healed," Danny countered. "That's why the doctor asked you to go in for a checkup in two weeks."

  "That's just protocol," Misha argued as her frustration mounted.

  "No, it's not," Aiko refuted. "I have seen your scar. And you're still on pain medication." She offered reasonably, "I know you can take care of yourself. But it won't hurt to have someone looking out for you."

  Danny added, "I've got a spare room that you can use until the doctor says you're good to go and you fix your security situation. And when I'm not there, you'll have Sarah."

  Misha felt ambushed, out-maneuvered and ganged-up on. She wanted to argue further but she couldn't think of anything to say that was as well reasoned as Danny and Aiko's argument. She was well and truly trapped. Huffing churlishly, she slumped in her seat and closed her eyes.

  By the time they got to Danny's building she was still peeved at them, but these two seemed to have planned for that too. They shuffled Misha to the long sofa in Danny's lounge, covered her with a fleece blanket then unleashed Seraphina on her.

  Within moments the little girl had Misha laughing with her odd questions and comments about the movie playing on screen. By dinner time, Misha could look at Aiko and Danny without pursing her lips, and when she tasted the delicious meal they'd prepared, all sins were forgiven. After the bland hospital fare, the stir-fried veggies, roasted potatoes and honey-glazed chicken were a king's fare.

  Being here wasn't so bad. The laughter, chatting and caring was as soothing as it was heartwarming. To be honest she didn't miss the loneliness that she often felt when she was at her house. Furthermore, Danny's home was nothing to sniff at. The guy had his own pool, ridiculously large rooms and enough channels to keep a movie addict happy for a long, long time. A girl could get used to this.

  Besides two weeks wasn't that long. Sure, Danny was temptation personified. But she'd been around him for more than a decade without breaking. Two weeks would be easy.

  CHAPTER 12

  Misha stumbled through the forest pursued by a faceless stranger. She weaved her way through the forest, her heart thudding in time to the frantic beat of her feet on the hard ground. Trees loomed in the darkness, their tall shadows seeming as threatening as her hunter. Their leaves brushed across her face and body like snakes slithering over her skin and leaving a trail of fear.

  And still her pursuer stalked.

  There were no footsteps pounding after her, no hard breaths competing with hers, yet she could feel the stranger drawing closer. She sent a panicked glance behind her and met nothing but darkness. Yet, the primitive sense of doom urging her to flee grew until it eclipsed her every thought.

  Run, run, run.

  Her breath came fast and hard as she zig-zagged between trees running
from her own fear. Desperation clawed at her nerves, gripped her lungs and squeezed until each draw of air was a painful gasp.

  And still her pursuer stalked.

  You can't run from me, Misha.

  She peered into the darkness, searching for an escape as panic fluttered wildly in her chest. Then she saw it. Light at the edge of the forest, calling her name and promising safety. She raced towards it, her feet and heart growing lighter and lighter as she edged towards the light. Closer, closer, closer…

  The moment she emerged into the clearing she noticed it. Something lying on the ground. She wanted to back away, yet invisible hands pushed her towards the thing. The closer she floated to it the clearer it became that it was a person. It was him.

  Eric Ingram.

  He lay spread-eagle on the grass face up. However, what caught her eye was the hole right in the middle of his chest. It was so large it covered the expanse of his midriff, yet she couldn't see what was in it. All she saw was the never ending darkness beneath it. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came. She tried to back away but the invisible force behind her pushed her closer to Eric. Her horrified gaze skirted past the hole up to his face. God, he was pale - paper-pale - and so gaunt that his skin stretched tight over the sharp contours of his face.

  To her horror, his eyes snapped open.

  Glowing green eyes looked up at her in a dead stare.

  Crying out in terror, she stumbled backward, but the invisible force shoved her back towards Eric. And suddenly Eric's arms were reaching for her, griping her, pulling her into her own death. She cried out for someone to help her, twisted against the sheets, kicked and struggled against Eric's shadowy grip…

  "Misha. Misha, wake up."

  She came to a startled wake and sat bolt upright; her breath labored, body trembling and eyes staring blankly ahead.

  "Misha." The quiet voice made her turn her head in fright.

  …until she realized that it was him. "Danny?"

  "It's just a bad dream." He wore a worried frown as he hauled her into his lap. "Just a bad dream," he soothed as he smoothed her damp hair off her face.

  Fighting to catch her breath, she grabbed his arm and frantically pressed her fingers into his muscles. "Danny."

  "I'm here," he murmured in her ear as he stroked her arm and her back. "It's okay."

  Some part of her noticed that his upper body was naked, but all that mattered was the fear still racing in her blood. She buried her head in the crook of his neck, breathed him in and absorbed his warmth. His strength was her weapon, piercing into her terror and slowly easing it.

  It took a while for her to relax completely into his touch and for her tremors to slow. Danny held her through it all, cradling her in his lap and soothing his hands over her back, arms and face. Finally, the frantic jerking of her heart slowed to normal speed and her breathing eased into measured, even breaths. Still, she stayed in his arms loathe to give up their comfort.

  It was Danny who broke the silence. "Eric?"

  She shut her eyes and nodded.

  "Tell me."

  Biting her lower lip nervously, she shook her head. She didn't want to relive the experience.

  "Okay." He stroked his thumb over her lower lip in an intimate gesture that had her looking up into his eyes. His face was drawn in a mask of concern and his gaze pored over her face as if trying to ascertain her condition. "You okay?"

  "Yeah. Much better." She nodded. Which meant it was time to move of his lap before her hormones woke up to the fact of where she was. On his lap, with only her skimpy nightclothes and his sweatpants between them. She moved off him and crawled back to the bed. She settled on it with her back to the headboard. "I'm sorry I woke you. Was I that loud?"

  Poor guy. By the lack of a shirt, the ruffled mess that was his hair and his slightly puffy eyes, it was obvious he'd been dragged from sleep. Her cries must've carried through the wall that separated their rooms and awoken him.

  "Don't worry about it?" Danny stroked her leg, leaving a trail of goose-bumps in the wake of his touch. "Do you want me to get you something to drink?"

  Did she? She shrugged.

  "Okay, relax. I'll be back in a minute." With long strides, he exited the room. As soon as he left, she got back under the covers and pulled them to her chin trying to ward off the chill brought on by the loss of Danny's warmth. She tried not to think of the nightmares, but Eric's face intruded into her thoughts. This time, however, there was no fear. Only sadness.

  Despite his blackmailing ways, Eric didn't deserve to die. In the world's eyes he hadn't even qualified for more than a quarter a page in one day's newspaper. There'd been no more mention of him after the initial report. And judging from the lack of announced arrests, it seemed that the cops had let his murder fade away quietly.

  He deserved better than that. He deserved justice.

  And Misha would get it for him. If only to stop him from haunting her dreams.

  As soon as Danny strode back in, a sweet aroma filled the bedroom and the sweet tang of cinnamon, ginger and a tinge of lemon tickled her nose. She gasped, "You got my tea?"

  "Yeah." He smiled as he crossed the room bearing a cup of steaming tea set over a saucer. "I figured that after the kidnapping I had some making up to do."

  "Thank you." She took the offered tea. As soon as she sipped the warm, spicy beverage, its warmth spread through her veins easing over her jangled nerves. She sighed. "Oh, yes."

  "It’s not that good." Danny laughed as he watched her drink - no, inhale the tea.

  "We forgive you for that, because you know not what you say." She closed her eyes and took another sip.

  Still chuckling, Danny crawled over her and to the other side of the bed. The mattress depressed beneath his weight as he mimicked her back-against-the-headboard position. "Give me a hit so I can confirm if it's that good."

  She popped one eye open. Was this guy serious?

  Apparently he was because he leaned over as if to pluck the cup from her hand. She immediately swiveled away from him. "Boy, bye. I'm not sharing my tea with you."

  "Technically it's my tea. I made it," he said, "so share."

  "You walked your ass into the kitchen, lit up the kettle, made a cup of tea, but didn't have the common sense God gave a cockroach to make your own cup?" She deliberately taunted him by sipping on her tea. "Boy. Bye."

  "You're a cruel woman, Misha Alexander." Danny shook his head as he shifted closer to her. "I really thought you'd outgrown it."

  "What are you talking about?" Misha protested. "I've never been cruel to you."

  "Wow! You must've hit your head harder than we thought because you're suffering from amnesia." He slung his arm over her shoulder.

  "I am not." Misha set her head on his shoulder and looked up at him. "Go ahead. Name one time I've been cruel to you."

  "Seventh grade you lied that you were moving to India…" He scowled. "… then made me buy you a going-away gift and everything."

  Misha rolled her eyes. "It was April Fool's day. It is not my fault that you can't read a calendar."

  "Ninth grade, you sold me fake answers to the math test." He flicked her nose in mock admonition. "I had to go to summer school because of you."

  "I was trying to shut down your budding criminal career," Misha insisted. "If it wasn't for me, you'd be in Sing Sing right now trying to avoid dropping your soap. You're welcome."

  "You didn't even have the decency to give back my money." Danny listed more incidences. Given his righteous outrage, one would've thought he was an angel. But he'd pranked her as much as she'd pranked him, given as good as he got.

  She reminded him of the time he'd shrunk all her Mathlete t-shirts so she'd come back to the basketball team. Or when he'd spent the whole night outside her cabin when they were in camp jangling chains, whispering her name and making her think the camping site was haunted.

  They were so embroiled in their argument of who was crueler that they barely noticed the time. N
ot until Danny glanced at the bedside clock and commented, "Damn, it's almost one."

  He pulled his arm away from her shoulder as if to leave, but she stopped him with a hand on his muscular thigh. Desperate to keep him with her for a few seconds longer, she asked, "Could you stay for a couple more minutes? Just until I fall asleep?"

  He gave her a long searching look then inclined his head. "Sure. But I'm getting under the covers. I'm not trying to freeze my ass off."

  "You wouldn't be freezing if you stopped walking around without your shirt. Nobody wants to see your bony chest anyway," Misha teased as she eased back into the bed.

  "Psh. You know you want all this sexiness." Danny gestured to his chest, drawing an amused chuckle from Misha, as he slid beneath the covers too.

  "In your dreams, Buster." But that didn't stop her from cuddling closer and propping her head on his shoulder.

  It wasn't the wisest decision to invite Danny into her bed. She was certainly asking for trouble. But the comfort of another person being with her would keep the nightmares at bay. And it certainly didn't hurt that Danny was so strong, large and male. Nothing would be getting past him.

  He must've been tired because he started to nod off. A mumble here, a mumble there and it wasn't long before he drifted into dreamland. Long after he slept Misha stayed awake, watching him sleep.

  Soon, watching turned to wanting.

  His face relaxed in sleep erasing the boyish charm he exuded during the day and replacing it with raw masculinity that had Misha's internal muscles clenching in need. But Daniel was so much more than a pretty face. The way he'd cared for her tonight was just a tip of the man he was; loving, protective, respectful…

  Everything any woman would want in a man.

  Everything Misha wanted in a man.

  She itched to push away the strands of raven black hair teasing over his broad forehead, and to trace her fingers over his cheeks and jaw. She wanted to lean over and set her lips to his.

  If only she could cast away her inhibitions and wake him up with such a tongue-binding kiss that he'd forget everything she'd said at Katherine's party… Finally he'd touch her the way she wanted him to touch her. She'd strip for him, he'd strip for her - or they'd strip each other. She could already imagine the feel of wrapping her legs around his strong flanks, feel him entering her.