Flirting with Fate

by Alexander, Jerrie

  FLIRTING WITH FATE

  A Noble Pass Affaire Novella

  A Noble Pass Affaire Novella Series

  Flirting with Fire by Misty Dietz

  Flirting with Disaster by Josie Matthews

  Flirting with Sin by Naima Simone

  Flirting with Fate by Jerrie Alexander

  Flirting with the Devil by Kym Roberts

  Other Titles by Jerrie Alexander

  The Lost and Found, Inc., series

  Hell or High Water

  Cold Day in Hell

  No Chance in Hell

  and the soon to be released, No Greater Hell.

  The Killer Affections series

  Till Justice is Served

  Stand-alone novels

  The Green-Eyed Doll

  The Last Execution

  Novellas

  Someone To Watch Over Me

  FLIRTING WITH FATE

  COPYRIGHT © 2015 by Jerrie Alexander

  Published by: Jerrie Alexander

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, whether electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  September 2015

  ISBN: 978-1-941205-08-2 E-Book Edition

  ISBN: 978-1-941205-09-9 Print Edition

  Cover illustrator: Misty Dietz,

  www.MistyDietz.com

  Edited by: Amy Knupp, Blue Otter Editing,

  www.BlueOtterEditing.com

  Edited by: Jena S. O’Connor

  http://www.practicalproofing.com

  Interior Design by: Top-ePublishing Services,

  www.Top-ePublishingServices.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and the resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Published in the United States of America

  Acknowledgements

  I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge the following people. Their support, advice, and enthusiasm were invaluable.

  To my editors and proofreaders, Brynna Curry, Jena S. O’Connor, Amy Knupp, and Jackie Pressley, your guidance helped me polish this story until it shone. For that, you have my sincere appreciation.

  Kym Roberts, you listened to my ideas, poked, and prodded me when the story stalled, and offered encouragement every step of the way. I appreciate you more than I can say.

  To the Chick Swagger Group, a group of authors dedicated to supporting and promoting authors, thanks for your hard work, friendship, and loyalty.

  Chick Swagger Sirens, the best street team ever, your encouragement, humor, and friendship motivate me and lift my spirits every day. Many thanks.

  To my daughter, who believes in me one-hundred percent, thank you for your unwavering love and support.

  Any mistakes are my own!

  Last but not least, thanks to my readers. You are why I write. Your emails make my day! I hope you enjoy this story as much as I loved writing it.

  Dedication

  To Jim, thank you for your support, encouragement, and most of all, your forever love.

  “Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.”

  Marcus Aurelius

  One

  Elle Reagan’s heart pounded against her rib cage, pushing blood through her veins at record speeds. She opened Brandon Ethridge’s dresser drawer and surveyed its contents. Careful not to disturb anything, she performed a thorough search. Disappointed to find nothing more than underwear and a collection of silk scarves, she moved to the nightstand next to the bed.

  A hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off the scream bubbling up in her throat. An arm slid around her waist and jerked her against a rock-hard chest. She kicked out with her feet and dug her nails into her attacker’s wrist.

  “Damn it, Elle. Stop that!” The low, gravelly whisper sent her mind spinning. Questions ricocheted through her thoughts.

  Logan Ford’s voice immobilized her. Elle’s fear segued into confusion, making it easy for him to back her across the room. He removed his hand from her mouth and then leaned over until his nose brushed her ear.

  “Not a word.” His fingers brushed her cheek, sending flashes of heat across her skin.

  He opened the French doors, and then stepped onto the balcony into the frigid air. Logan pulled her along and stopped when they reached the far corner. He turned her to face him. His expression was as cold as the falling snowflakes.

  The sound of a man’s voice from inside the suite turned Elle’s knees to rubber. She looked up into Logan’s dark brown eyes. He’d saved her from being discovered. Questions, such as why he was in Colorado instead of Texas, would have to wait until they were safely off this balcony and out of the horrid weather.

  Logan pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her. His broad back helped shield her from the blizzard. Under different circumstances, she would’ve enjoyed being inside his strong arms with her head tucked under his chin. Hadn’t she daydreamed about him sweeping her off her feet since she’d turned thirteen? Standing outdoors in subzero weather, six floors above the snow-covered ground, made it impossible to enjoy the moment.

  He hadn’t come for romance, he’d come to interfere.

  Elle heard voices rise and fall as people moved through the suite.

  “If you pull this deal off, we’ll make a fortune,” Ethridge’s daughter, Nicki, said. “I’m tired of this game.”

  “A few more days and Liam and Alana will do whatever I recommend,” Ethridge said.

  Logan’s grip tightened, helping Elle forget the weather but not her mission.

  “Hurry up. Let’s go downstairs.” Nicki’s tone hinted at impatience. “I want to select the perfect spot for us to stand during the meet-and-greet cocktail party.”

  Time crawled as Elle and Logan waited until it was safe to go inside. She shivered, regretting not wearing heavier clothes, but then, she hadn’t expected to be hiding on a balcony in the snow. She’d planned on finding the evidence she needed and leaving quickly.

  Elle had to stop Ethridge. His swindle had to be uncovered and proof sent to the FBI. Maybe then they would act on her grandmother’s complaints.

  A door slammed. Had someone else entered or had they left? The cold had seeped into her bones to the point of being painful. Logan’s head lowered, and his lips brushed her icy ear.

  “Stay here until I’m sure it’s all clear.”

  Elle managed a nod and reluctantly released her warm shelter. A minute later, he came back. He dusted snow off them, scooped her into his arms, and carried her inside. Curiosity got the best of her. “What are you doing here?”

  “We’ll talk later. We have to move. Leaving a trail of wet footprints on the carpet wouldn’t be too smart.”

  In a few long strides, they were out the door and in the hallway. If she hadn’t been so pleased to be in his arms, he wouldn’t have gotten away with his bossy tone of voice. Logan put her down, took her hand, and they hurried to the elevator. When they were safely inside, he pushed the button marked eight. More questions filled her mind. How did he know her floor number? When was he leaving?

  She turned, ready to demand answers, but lost her voice. His hair was damp with melting snow, his shirt was wet and had molded to his chest. Looking down at her, the one man who’d made her speechless for years, smiled. His gaze then conducted a leisurely scan of her body, r
eminding her that she, too, wore wet clothing.

  The elevator doors opened, and without conversation, they walked to her suite. By the time they had entered the common room of her suite, Elle was about to explode. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Have you lost your mind?” His tone sounded equally full of frustration, which pushed her last hot button.

  “What business is it of yours, if I have? And don’t answer my question with a question.” Did she think he was going to say, I’m here because I’m crazy about you? Or that he’d seized this chance to be alone with her? No. She knew exactly who’d sent him. Damn it, Eric.

  “We’re friends. That makes it my business.” He leaned against the fireplace mantel, looking right at home and way too sexy.

  “Give me a break. We both know why you’re here. How is my dear brother?” Logan rushing to Colorado to protect her would’ve been a dream come true. However, she knew that wasn’t the case.

  “He’s pissed.”

  “I guess you think I should thank you for saving my butt.”

  Logan’s mouth lifted into a half smile. “You mean for keeping you out of jail? You’re welcome.”

  “You need to go home.” Elle stabbed her finger toward the door.

  “So do you.” He pushed off the mantel. In a couple of long strides, he stood in front of her. “What’s with the hair?”

  She pulled off the wig and tossed it onto a chair. “Nicki Ethridge is a blonde.”

  “Jesus.” His eyebrows drew together. “I’ll go home if you come with me.”

  “I won this vacation, and I intend to stay right here.”

  “Bullshit,” he said with a shake of his head. “You entered the contest under false pretenses.”

  “Now you’re an expert on what I do and why?” God, he looked good standing there all pissed off.

  “I’m smart enough to know you’d never enter a contest to meet some stranger for a possible romantic connection. Give me a fucking break. Somehow, you learned Brandon Ethridge was going to be here. Eric saw through your con weeks ago.”

  Elle decided to appeal to Logan’s sense of fair play. “Don’t you dare screw this up for me. I promised Nan I’d either figure out a way to get her money back or gather enough information to put Ethridge in prison.”

  “You have no idea what you’re up against.” Logan’s jaw muscles twitched, making Elle want to smooth her hand across the stubble on his cheek. “If the FBI can’t prove Ethridge is an investment scam artist, what makes you think you can?”

  “Because I have a personal interest, and I’m not some branch of the government with other priorities.”

  “The Feds are working the case, but they need proof. You know...evidence.”

  “Don’t be a smartass.” Elle wasn’t backing down. His frown relaxed. Had she softened his always-by-the-book approach to life? “I’m asking you not to interfere.”

  “Let’s get you warmed up.” He took her hand and led her into her bedroom, stopping at the bed.

  Again, Elle had gone speechless. Had she won the argument or been ignored? Exactly what did he have in mind? Whatever it was, her hormones had immediately come to life and were running wild. He’d definitely piqued her interest.

  He knelt and looked up at her through thick, dark lashes. “Have a seat.”

  As if hypnotized, she obeyed. Curiosity had taken control of her brain. He removed her shoes, catching her instep in his hand.

  “Your feet are like ice.”

  Lightning bolts shot up her leg as his fingers kneaded and soothed her foot. Parts of her body instantly warmed and tingled under the pressure of his hands. Parts that shouldn’t heat up at his touch. Falling for Logan’s Prince Charming routine would be as smart as playing Russian roulette with a fully loaded gun. She’d heard a lot of stories about the broken hearts he’d left in his wake. Self-preservation kicked in, and Elle pulled her foot from his grasp.

  “You are not going to stop me. Sending you was a waste of time.”

  “We’ll talk about this after you’ve had a warm shower and changed into dry clothes.”

  Logan’s audacity brought her out of her hormonal fog. He’d always ordered her around as if he, too, were her brother. “I’m not too cold to listen.”

  “Shower first.” Out came that damn frown. “Want me to help you undress?”

  A nervous laugh burst from Elle, embarrassing her. She quickly regained her composure. “Now you’re being funny. I’m waiting for you to leave. Go home and tell my brother to mind his own damn business.”

  Logan’s eyes narrowed to slits. He stood and silently left the room, closing the door behind him.

  The tension in Elle’s neck tightened. No way was Logan leaving. She’d have to come up with a plan to gain his help. He’d have to get his own room. The owners of Castle Alainn had provided her and the male co-winner with a luxurious two-bedroom suite. Each side could be locked off from the rest of the unit, satisfying her wariness of sharing space with a stranger. She couldn’t help but worry about what would happen if the guy turned up to find Logan in the common area.

  She wasn’t concerned that Logan would blow her cover. His loyalty to her brother went back many years. Eric had brought Logan home to play the day after Elle had turned thirteen. She’d immediately developed a crush on him. Not that he’d ever given her a second look. For the next nineteen years, the only physical contact she’d had with Logan was when he’d held her down and scrubbed his knuckles across her head.

  Her nerve endings had fired and tingled for all the wrong reasons today. She’d breathed in his scent and felt the strength of his body. The sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach set off warning bells. Logan had no interest in her. He’d proved that in high school by treating her as if she’d had the plague. Still, standing on Ethridge’s balcony, staring up at Logan, she’d thought a spark of interest had flared in his eyes. No doubt, it was just concern for her safety.

  Shaking off those thoughts, Elle stripped and walked into the bathroom. She turned on the shower, stepped under the warm water, allowing her bones to thaw. She toweled off, dried her hair, and then applied makeup.

  Elle slipped on a simple black dress and a pair of heels. She’d blown her budget on clothes for this trip. Her new dress, cut low in the back, accentuated her every curve, but she only gave the mirror a quick glance. She had to bring Logan over to her side.

  She entered the common room to find him standing in front of the fireplace. On the mantel sat two glasses of red wine. His usual unruly shock of black hair had been conquered and combed into place. In typical Logan style, the two-day-old stubble remained in place as it had for years. Black slacks and polished shoes had replaced his jeans and boots. The white button-down, open at the neck, highlighted his tan skin and dark eyes. Her mouth watered. He looked more like a professional model than a firebrand Texas police detective.

  Elle sank down onto the plush couch. “Why are you still here and dressed like you’re ready for a photo shoot?”

  “Does my look impress you?”

  “Answer my question.”

  “I’m the co-winner you’re expecting. Randall Newman.”

  A heavy weight took up residence on her shoulders. “For real?”

  “For real.” Logan smiled the kind of smile you’d give a petulant child.

  “Exactly how did you persuade Mr. Newman to give up the vacation of a lifetime?”

  “Eric ran a background check on him. Apparently, Newman isn’t the smartest rooster in the barn. Seems he’s been convicted of grand larceny and is out on parole. One call to clue in his probation officer that he’d booked a flight out of Texas without permission, was all it took.”

  “So you took his place. Have the owners seen you?”

  “Yup. Newman is tall, with dark hair and eyes. I look enough like his picture to pass.” Logan carried the glass of wine to her. “You must have written one hell of a letter to win the contest. What if you’d lost?”

  “T
hen my credit card would have suffered.”

  “Now that we know the owners are Ethridge’s mark, I have to come clean with them.”

  The thought of being disqualified from the contest stoked her building anger. “If you and Eric mess up my chance to prove Ethridge is a crook, I’ll never forgive either of you.”

  “Will you at least listen to what I have to say?”

  Too upset to speak, she waved her hand.

  “You’ve put a full-court press on the investigation into Ethridge Investments. Then all of a sudden, you drop everything to go on vacation. That was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Eric knew you’d be pissed, so he asked me to come.”

  “Why’d you say yes?”

  “That’s not a question you should have to ask. We’ve been friends too long for me to say no.”

  “So, you’re here to help me?” The word friend stabbed her in the heart.

  “To keep you out of trouble.”

  Elle sipped at the wine. Eric had gone too far. “I’m not backing off just because you’re babysitting me.”

  “After overhearing that Ethridge plans to scam the Fitzgeralds, I’ve changed my mind.”

  Elle let his statement sink in before she spoke. Her mind started churning. “Great. You can help me prove Brandon Ethridge is a criminal.”

  “There’s one condition.” Logan sat in the chair across from her. His muscular legs strained against his slacks. “I call the shots.”

  “For sure,” she lied, keeping her gaze locked on his. “You’re the expert.” Every nerve cell in Elle’s body was on high alert. Brain synapses continued to fire. Logan brought years of experience as a cop to the table.

  His eyes narrowed to slits. “That was too easy. Ethridge is smart enough that the Feds haven’t been able to gather enough to arrest him. If he has millions of dollars tucked away somewhere safe, you can bet your sweet ass he’ll do whatever it takes to protect it. He’s not going to turn the other cheek if he figures out what you’re up to.”