by Mandy Baxter
“You’re beautiful.” Kieran’s hungry gaze roamed over her, making Charlie feel a little like a meal. “I don’t know a man on the planet who wouldn’t have helped you out.”
Heat collected in the pit of Charlie’s stomach and fanned out into her limbs. Kieran’s compliment shouldn’t have pleased her. She’d never thought of herself as attractive. She was a little too curvy, her personality a little too severe. “I doubt he took the risk because he thought I was good-looking.” Did Mason think she was good-looking? Jesus, that was so not something she should be contemplating right now.
“I would have.” Kieran dropped his voice to a murmur. “In a heartbeat.”
Charlie wasn’t going to let herself be affected by his words. “Liar.”
Kieran chuckled. “Maybe.” He shrugged. “Maybe not.”
He leaned forward in his seat and said something to the driver in Russian.
“What did you say to him?”
“I told him not to take us to the hotel.”
Charlie shifted in her seat. “Where did you tell him to take us?”
“Mélisse. I’m starving, aren’t you?”
There was no way she’d make it through a casual meal as wound up and worried as she was. “What about Mason?”
“What about him?” It seemed Kieran couldn’t turn off the playful vibe. “He can get his own dinner.”
Was there anything that worried him? Not even Mason’s safety?
*
Charlie had never been more ready for a day to come to a close. She’d made a conscious effort to soldier through dinner. It’s not like she had a choice. She couldn’t help but wonder if Mason was stuck in the same situation right now. A captive audience without a choice.
“How’s the wine?”
“It’s great.” He knew it was, but Charlie suspected that Kieran wanted to hear her say it. To reinforce that he was suave and sophisticated. That his tastes were impeccable.
They’d already polished off the first bottle and were working on the second one. Charlie had thought that a couple glasses of overpriced chardonnay would calm her nerves, but she’d passed calm a mile or so back and was headed straight toward tipsyville.
“And dinner?”
He couldn’t help but fish for compliments. You’d think he’d cooked her salmon himself. “Delicious,” Charlie said with a smile.
Kieran watched her. The intensity of his attention compressed the air from Charlie’s lungs and left her feeling a little shaky. Or maybe it was the wine. Either way, she was pretty sure that the best thing for her at this point was to finish eating and get her butt to bed.
They’d kept the conversation light throughout most of the meal. Charlie had almost forgotten that she was dining with a man who was on the radar of every law enforcement agency in this country and a few others. Kieran liked to showcase his sophistication, and the topics of conversation ranged from theater and ballet to music and art. He had Charlie beat on the high society chart. Not for the first time, she considered how much her dad would have loved Kieran if not for the whole international criminal thing.
“How did you get into the jewelry business?” Kieran twirled his wineglass by the stem. “Were your parents jewelers?”
“No,” Charlie said with a laugh. “Why would you think that?”
“It’s the sort of business that runs in families.”
“Sort of like diamond smuggling?”
Kieran laughed. “Sort of.”
“My dad’s a lawyer.” Some small measure of truth couldn’t hurt. Kieran didn’t know her real last name after all. “About as far from a jeweler as you can get.”
Kieran regarded her. “What sort of law does he practice?”
Charlie sipped from her glass. “Corporate.”
“So he’s in it for the money?”
Kieran didn’t mince words and Charlie wasn’t going to downplay the truth. “Yep.” She picked at her risotto, suddenly more interested in another glass of wine than getting food in her stomach. “That and the clout.”
“How good is he at his job?” Kieran reached across the table and refilled Charlie’s glass as though on cue.
Charlie brought the glass to her lips. “Very good.”
“I doubt he was thrilled at his daughter’s choice of profession, then.”
Jeweler … black-market diamond broker … prosecuting attorney … They were probably equally heinous in her father’s opinion. She took a good, long swallow of the crisp white wine. “No.”
“But you think he’d respect you more if you brought home an impressive paycheck.”
Wow. Charlie was beginning to think that Kieran might actually know her dad. “Probably.” She couldn’t seem to muster more than one-word responses. Change of subject, please!
“I can give that to you.” The way Kieran promised her the world was seductive and a little slimy all at once. “I can give you the respect you deserve.”
Charlie set her glass down on the table. Kieran was absolutely right. He just didn’t realize how he was going to enable her to get it. She leveled her gaze to his and held it. “I’m counting on it.”
*
The elevator doors slid open on the tenth floor. Mason let out a gust of breath as he stepped into the hallway and pulled the plastic key card out of his pocket. He’d been trying to get ahold of Charlie on her burner phone for the past half hour to no fucking avail. Why wasn’t she answering? Where was she? Mason had damned near worried himself into an ulcer over it. Plus, he was tired, hungry, and so wound up that his head felt like it was going to spring right off his shoulders.
Katarina had proved to be quite a handful. Spoiled. Demanding. Exhausting. Horny as fuck. Oblivious to anyone not wanting her. Getting out of that club without damaging her precious ego had been a feat in itself. She’d offered him a job first. Then, her body. And when he hadn’t expressed interest in either, she’d threatened to withhold payment for the diamonds and deposit his body in the nearest Dumpster.
It had taken more coddling than Mason thought he was capable of to let her down easy. He’d reluctantly admitted to her that his feelings for Charlie ran deeper than mere business acquaintances. Katarina had made the leap to assume that Charlie was interested in Kieran. And why not? Kieran was dangerous, suave, cocky, rich. Charming. The total package. At her core, Katarina was a romantic. A brokenhearted one. She sympathized with Mason’s supposed unrequited love. In the end, she vowed to pay Mason every dime they’d agreed to and let him leave with an offer in parting. Her door was always open to him, should he change his mind.
He wanted to lay his fist into Kieran’s gut for putting him in that position tonight.
Mason forced one foot in front of the other as he trudged toward his room. He rounded a corner and came to a complete stop not fifty feet from where Kieran had Charlie pressed against a door. Their mouths hovered less than an inch apart and Kieran’s fingers were wound in the length of Charlie’s shining, silky hair. They both turned and faced him at the same moment and the three of them stood there, staring in stunned silence.
What—the actual—fuck.
Kieran had the nerve to let loose a superior smile. Mason was going to pull the fucker’s perfect, straight white teeth right out of his head. Charlie’s eyes went wide. She ducked under Kieran’s arm and hustled down the hallway to the spot where Mason stood rooted to the floor, as if she hadn’t just been caught with her pants down.
Or at least she would’ve been if he’d shown up a few minutes later.
Seriously. What the fuck?
“What happened? What did she want?” Charlie searched Mason’s face, her own pinched with worry. Her concern was a bitter gall considering what he’d just walked up on. He’d been worried out of his damned mind, wondering what had happened that she couldn’t answer her phone. Of course she couldn’t answer. Her hands had been too damn full of Kieran to handle anything else.
“Nothing happened.” Mason forced his jaw to unclench, but it didn’t sof
ten the bite of his words. “She wired the money, I gave her the diamonds. End of story.”
He wanted to tell Charlie something completely different than the truth. That he’d bent Katarina over a table and fucked her so hard that neither one of them could walk straight. He wanted her to feel exactly what he felt right now. Like someone had just gutted him with a dull knife. Like he couldn’t take a deep enough breath to fill his lungs. But she’d actually have to feel something for him in order to be hurt, wouldn’t she?
Charlie’s jaw squared. “It’s been two hours. You’re telling me that’s all that happened?”
Mason didn’t owe her an explanation. He didn’t owe her a damned thing. “Yup.”
Charlie glanced over her shoulder. Mason followed her line of sight to where Kieran leaned against the wall, watching them. The silence that stretched between them all grew more aggravating by the second. What a shitty-ass day. Mason was more than ready to put it behind him.
“I’m going to bed.”
Kieran laughed. Arrogant asshole.
Charlie turned to face Mason, her brow furrowed. She brought her voice down to a murmur. “Don’t you think we should talk about a few things first?”
Mason looked over her head at Kieran. “Nope.” There were too many thoughts tangled up in his brain for Mason to hash any of this out tonight. His temper was hanging on by a thread as it was. He brushed past her, didn’t dare look back.
Kieran continued to lean against the wall, arms folded across his chest. “Tough to satisfy, isn’t she?” he remarked as Mason walked by.
Was he talking about Katarina, or Charlie? “Fuck you, Kieran.”
Kieran’s laughter trailed after him down the hallway. Mason stopped three doors down and shoved his key card into the slot. He pushed open the door and let it slam behind him, effectively drowning out the sound of Kieran’s amusement.
Why in the hell had he ever agreed to this?
Mason stalked toward the bed. For someone who’d had no problem expressing her disdain for the criminal element, Charlie had sure cozied up to Kieran quickly. Jesus, he didn’t even know why he was so twisted up about it. No, he did know. Because nice guys finished last. That’s fucking why.
The blackout curtains were drawn over the windows, making Mason feel as though the walls of his room were closing in. He ripped them away and jerked open the sliding glass door that led out to the balcony, in order to let in some fresh air. It did little to clear his mind or slow the pounding of his pulse, but at least he no longer felt like climbing the walls.
“Your dad’s going to shit a brick, you know that, right?”
Memories that Mason had spent years quashing resurfaced. Kieran had worn the same shit-eating grin that night as he did tonight. Too smug for his own fucking good.
“Which is why you’re not going to tell him.”
“Damn straight I’m not.”
Mason watched Kieran count out the stack of bills. For the better part of two hours he’d been working the pool table, hustling unsuspecting jackasses who’d just cashed their paychecks for the week. Mason didn’t want any part of it. He kept his distance from that shit. He was leaving for the academy in a few days and the last thing he needed was to get caught doing something underhanded with Kieran. It was bad enough he was Jensen Decker’s kid. He didn’t need any other dark marks on his already soiled reputation.
“He’s gonna find out, though. I mean, no way can you keep your dirty secret forever.”
Dirty secret? Jesus. “Since when is doing the right thing the wrong choice?”
“You tell me.” Kieran chuckled as he folded the bills and shoved them in his pocket. “You’re the one who doesn’t want to tell Dad about it.”
Dad. They weren’t brothers by birth, but that didn’t matter. After living with them for eight years, Kieran was as much Jensen’s kid as Mason was. And Mason loved Kieran like a brother. But that didn’t mean he could continue to condone Kieran’s walking in their dad’s footsteps.
“You don’t have to keep doing this, you know.” Kieran chased the thrill just like his dad had done for years. Mason knew that thrill. He loved the rush of adrenaline as well. But he’d chosen to get his fix on the other side of the law.
Kieran snorted. “What? Want me to be a cop like you?”
“I want you to not end up in jail.” Like Dad.
“That’s not going to happen,” Kieran assured him.
“That’s the thing,” Mason said. “It will. It always happens. You think Dad ever thought he was going to get caught?”
Kieran’s lips thinned and he averted his gaze. “I’m smarter than Dad.”
Mason tipped the bottle of beer toward his mouth. “If you say so.”
“You know what the worst part of this is?” Kieran asked. “It’s that you obviously don’t give a shit about me.”
Once again, Kieran knew how to make everything about him. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“You’re cutting me out of your life.”
Was he? Mason hadn’t really considered that. “No, I’m not.”
“You absolutely are.” Kieran retrieved his bottle of Stella from the bar and drained it in a couple of swallows. “What do you think will happen once you put on that badge? We won’t be hanging out, that’s for damn sure. No one’ll do business with me otherwise, and you’ll have internal affairs up your ass on a daily basis.” He signaled the bartender for another. “They’ll make you turn on me.”
Again, his overinflated ego molded Kieran’s words. He obviously thought he’d be a big deal, make a name for himself within the syndicates. There wasn’t a scrap of paperwork to connect Mason to Kieran. They were unofficially brothers. Kieran was a homeless, orphaned, street-hustler-in-training who’d managed to impress his dad. He’d become a part of their family, but as far as the state was concerned, Kieran Eagan might as well be a ghost.
“You know that’ll never happen,” Mason said.
“We’ll see, brother,” Kieran replied. “But don’t forget, nice guys finish last.”
Chapter Fifteen
Charlie wanted off this ride. She’d only been at it a week and the stress was starting to get to her. Her emotions swung on a pendulum. Her head ached. Her brain buzzed. And she was pretty sure she’d developed some nasty acid reflux.
There seriously weren’t enough Tums in the world …
Letting Kieran down easily and getting rid of him for the night had been like trying to peel two pieces of duct tape apart. She’d finally managed to use too much wine as an excuse, and he’d reluctantly gone to his own room. Charlie let out a groan as she threw herself on the bed. She’d almost swallowed her tongue when Mason came around the corner and saw her and Kieran together. There was no way to put a positive spin on it. She knew what it had looked like.
But Mason had it so wrong.
Charlie pushed herself up from the bed and paced the confines of her room. Mason would interpret what he’d interrupted as a betrayal. She was sure his reaction to what he’d seen had nothing to do with any feelings he had for Charlie. Though she wouldn’t deny that the notion of Mason being jealous of another man paying attention to her made her feel a little too warm and fuzzy.
This was about Kieran. Plain and simple. And the rivalry between them. Kieran was his Achilles’ heel. The only chink in his armored exterior. Charlie needed Mason confident. Tough. The grim-faced hard-ass who didn’t take shit off anyone.
How in the hell had she gotten caught in the middle of all this?
Screw it. Charlie wasn’t going to spend the rest of the night wearing a path into the carpet worrying about what Mason may or may not have thought. She swiped her key card from the dresser and stalked out of the room. Her temper mounted with each step toward Mason’s room. Who in the hell did he think he was? He’d dragged her into this mess and then had the nerve to be pissed when she was simply playing her part. He’d never shown an ounce of interest in her, and yet she’d spent the past week pining after him
like some stupid lovesick girl. Mason Decker: the man, the myth, the legend. Charlie snorted. He and Kieran were exactly alike. Their egos wouldn’t allow them to lose. And their personal battle was going to sink her investigation and her task force.
It was time to take back control.
Every ounce of stress she felt went into her fist as she pounded on Mason’s door. Charlie waited. Waited. Brought her fist up and pounded again. Waited. Waited some more. And threw her foot into the door at the exact moment it swung wide.
The toe of her shoe connected squarely with Mason’s shin. He let out a grunt and Charlie’s hands flew up to her mouth. His brow crinkled with pain and anger and he drew in a sharp breath as he took a stumbling step back.
“Son of a bitch! Jesus, Charlie, what in the hell was that for?”
He deserved more than a kick to the shin for his shitty attitude, but Charlie wasn’t about to tell him that. She pushed her way into the room and let the door close behind her. “We need to talk.”
“Talk?” Mason’s gorgeous eyes went wide. “You fucking kicked me.”
“Yeah, well.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “I didn’t mean to kick you. What took you so long to answer the damn door?”
Again, Mason had the nerve to look shocked. “I was asleep. It’s one o’clock in the fucking morning.”
For the first time since barging in, Charlie realized she was standing face-to-face with a nearly naked Mason Decker. She took in the sight of his bare chest, packed with muscle, down the narrow taper of his waist, over the ridges of his abs, to the V that cut a path down his hips and disappeared into the waistband of his boxers. Her gaze lingered a little too long there and Mason cleared his throat. Charlie’s head snapped up and she found his expression dark. His jaw formed a hard line.
Heat swamped her. Goddamn, he was hot when he was angry.
“I want to know what happened with Katarina tonight.”
Okay, so it wasn’t how she’d planned to start their conversation. It would have been better to begin by being a little less confrontational. Charlie didn’t know how to handle herself around Mason. She’d never had trouble taking charge. Being assertive. Speaking her mind. But whenever he leveled his gaze on her, her mind went blank. Any ability to make well-thought-out decisions vanished. It was like she was twenty years old again. Flustered in the presence of a good-looking guy.