Dangerously Deceived

by Sidney Bristol

  “Me or the joke?” One side of his mouth hitched up and damn if her knees didn’t feel a bit wobbly.

  Carla sputtered, too flustered to come back with an answer.

  He took a step closer.

  She froze to the spot, her skin too hot, her legs too weak to move.

  Mr. Chocolate Eyes flattened his hand to his chest and whispered, “Damn, please don’t kill me with that smile. I’d like to live.”

  That was smooth. She knew it was a line and yet when he said it, it totally worked.

  Carla sucked in a breath, catching the scent of lemons and soap.

  This was the penthouse. People who came in here believed she was Ashton’s girlfriend. This wasn’t the place to pick up guys, not that she did that sort of thing often. She clutched her spray bottle to her chest like a lifeline.

  “Is-is there something I can help you with?” she asked her mysterious stranger. He had to be here on regular business. They weren’t sharing Jared’s kidnapping with anyone.

  “Bathroom?” he asked.

  “Oh. Down there, third door. Can’t miss it.” She gestured with the spray bottle.

  He glanced at her, his gaze dipping lower. “Cute outfit.”

  Carla screwed her smile on tighter.

  What was she wearing?

  “Thanks,” she said automatically.

  “Well, keep dancing, Rita Hayworth.”

  “I will.” Okay, his knowledge of black and white film leading ladies with amazing dance skill was fairly impressive.

  “And careful with that smile. You might hurt someone.” He waggled his finger at her then turned toward the hall.

  She couldn’t help herself. She stood there, committing him to memory. Broad shoulders. Tall, probably Ashton’s height. Trim waist. And an ass that did nice things for a pair of slacks.

  “Pst.”

  She jumped, startled by the noise, and locked eyes with Ashton leaning against the doorway.

  Shit.

  Carla glanced down at herself then the spray bottle.

  Busted.

  She was still wearing the silky black sleep shorts with the delicate white lace on the hem with her FIERCE tank top that left much of her neon pink sports bra showing. Not usually the clothing she wore when people were in the house.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  Ashton shrugged then whispered, “You were staring.”

  She took in Ashton’s suit. He’d showered. Which took a lot of time.

  “What time was it?” Her mouth went dry.

  “It’s time.”

  “Double shit,” she muttered. “I’ll change. Pretend you didn’t see this, okay?”

  “Come on, let’s get you dressed.” Ashton picked up her contraband bucket of cleaning supplies without a single cross word and gestured to the stairs.

  Neither Ashton nor Jared trusted her to dress herself when it counted. Normally they made a game out of What Will Carla Wear Today? But now it was another sad reminder he was missing.

  “Come on. Help me?” She took Ashton’s hand and led him up the stairs.

  This was on her. She’d lost track of time after making sure he’d gotten up to shower and eat. They were both a bit lost.

  Her bedroom was the corner room, across from Ashton’s master suite. She pushed the door to her room open then took the bucket from Ashton and set it down next to the laundry along with her spray bottle. Later she’d stow it under her bed where Ashton would never think to look.

  “You hit it off with the body guard?” Ashton asked.

  Carla blinked at him for a moment. “That-he’s a bodyguard? For us? One of those guys we...?”

  “Yeah.”

  Great.

  Just awesome.

  Not only had she completely spaced and forgotten where she was and that she had a reoccurring role here, now she’d have to grin and bear the company of one extremely hot man all while holding Ashton together.

  She glanced up, her gaze snagging on Ashton’s. The pain and fear was back, so powerful it broke her heart.

  “Good news is I’m packed and I’ll be dressed in a minute.”

  “You packed yourself?” Ashton’s brows rose.

  She held up her hands in defeat. “I used one of Jared’s old packing lists. Okay? I know my limits.”

  Ashton’s lips twisted up.

  She’d said Jared’s name.

  Triple shit.

  “Hey?” She wrapped her arms around Ashton’s waist, squeezing him tight. “They’ll get Jared back.”

  “What if they don’t?” Ashton whispered.

  “They will. Just keep telling yourself that.” All the anguish she’d stuffed down during her cleaning respite surged back up.

  Jared had become part of their lives, filling a space they’d each been missing. For her, Jared was the obnoxious brother she’d never really wanted, but couldn’t live without. For Ashton, Jared was the love of his life. The three of them formed a miss-matched family. The kind you got to pick. But it came at a cost. Ashton wouldn’t admit he was gay until his grandmother passed away, and the old woman showed no signs of kicking the bucket. That forced Jared to hide their relationship, all while Carla pretended to play the girlfriend, watching everyone else fall in love except her.

  It was a twisted, complicated situation she’d have never thought would last this long. But it had.

  At least they could table the family’s pressure for a wedding and babies until Jared was rescued. Getting him back was their top priority.

  “The Aegis team is here. They want to talk to us.” Ashton squeezed her back, then let go.

  “We still haven’t heard anything?” She began pulling off her clothes in a rush to change.

  “Nothing.” Ashton went to her bed and sat down, head in his hands.

  “They’ll reach out,” she said.

  “What if he’s dead?”

  “Don’t think like that.”

  Carla cast a longing look to the drawer full of yoga pants and other comfy clothes. It was a shame she really wasn’t into dressing up for the role of Ashton Khoury’s girlfriend. There were women out there who might kill for her closet and all she wanted to wear were bargain leggings and an oversized shirt she’d stolen from Ashton.

  Since they were traveling, she cut herself a little slack and opted for fitted black slacks with a lot of stretch and some kind of loose, tunic top in a shimmering gray. Her make-up from yesterday was still salvageable with a little touch-up here and there. By the time she was finished Ashton had her shoes selected for her and a necklace hanging from his finger.

  An invisible fist hit her in the chest.

  Ashton was the accessory guy. Jared was responsible for most of her clothes. And he wasn’t here. Sure, he’d put this outfit together for her before, but it wasn’t the same without him here. She missed his quip about her inability to pair patterns and colors. There was nothing subtle about Jared Moss, and that was what she loved about him. Among all their secrets, no one ever had to guess when it came to him.

  “We’re going to get him back,” she said around the knot in her throat.

  Ashton nodded, but the anguish was still there. She wished she could take it away, make things better for him, but this time the problem was bigger, more complicated than he could handle.

  He frowned and reached in his pocket.

  All the blood drained from Ashton’s face.

  “Who is it?” she whispered.

  He turned the screen toward her. “Jared.”

  “Answer it.”

  “What if—”

  She cupped her hands around his. “You have to answer it, or we’ll never know.”

  Ashton nodded then tapped the screen. “Hello?”

  “Ashton Khoury?” The man’s voice was heavy with an all too familiar accent. It was the same one Ashton’s whole family had.

  “Yes, this is he.” Ashton, on the other hand, had gone totally cold.

  Carla reached over and took his hand.
>
  “Mr. Khoury, we have someone who works for you.”

  “I am aware.” Ashton clenched her hand.

  “If you want him returned alive, be prepared to pay.” The call ended.

  Almost immediately a new message from Jared hit Ashton’s phone.

  “Give it to me.” Carla took the device from him and hit the message.

  It was a video.

  Jared sat in a chair, his normally crisp, freshly pressed clothes rumpled and dirty. He had a gag over his mouth and a blindfold on his eyes. In his lap was a newspaper in a language she couldn’t read but knew on sight. A piece of paper stuck out. It had a number written on it.

  $1,853,268,500.

  2.

  Thursday. Ashton Khoury’s Home, New York City, NY.

  There were times when this job took Vaughn to places he’d never have expected a poor kid from El Paso to end up. The penthouse of a New York City sky rise was on that list. If it weren’t overcast, he was pretty sure he’d be able to make eyes at the Statue of Liberty.

  If his mom could see this...

  He was pretty sure the monthly rent for this place cost as much as the house he’d bought for his mom. Places like this just didn’t make sense to Vaughn. Sinking this much wealth into extravagant living didn’t make sense to him. It was one thing to have a sturdy built home with some nice, finishing touches, and a completely different thing to have gold fixtures and priceless paintings.

  Maybe he was just a simple guy with simple tastes?

  There was nothing wrong with that, just as there was nothing wrong for Ashton Khoury to spend a fortune on his glass house atop a skyscraper.

  Vaughn turned away from the window at the end of the hall and put his mind back on the task at hand. He wanted to put eyes on the suite’s security room or controls. So far he’d seen multiple security measures in the penthouse, from the key card required to reach the floor to the alarm system and cameras. It was clear that getting to their client in his home was a difficult objective. They needed to rule out that whoever took Jared wasn’t also a threat here.

  Vaughn strolled down the hall, peaking into two offices. One was clearly Mr. Khoury’s. It was the black, gray and chrome look with the masculine feel. This was a power room, staged so that anyone who entered did so at a disadvantage. The other office had two desks across from each other. The feel of the room was more casual despite sharing the same gray paint. It was the splashes of color and fuzzy pillows that made it the kind of room you wanted to spend time in.

  Other than a bathroom and a guest room that was it for the first floor. He was right back in the odd, circular space situated between an entry sitting area and the dining and living spaces wrapping around the other side of the suite. A metal staircase curved up to the second floor. A glass, circular table sat in the middle of the space with a bouquet of white flowers on top.

  There was no sign of the curvy cute maid except the lingering scent of citrus and soap.

  Where had she gone? And why should he care?

  He blew out a breath and stared out the window a moment.

  The way his last relationship ended why was he even looking at a woman?

  For a moment it was as though his problems faded away, then he locked eyes with the maid and that was it. He opened his mouth, words came out, and she smiled. God, that smile.

  His phone vibrated against his thigh. He pulled it out.

  Mom.

  He glanced through the arch leading into the sitting area where the others waited. By the time Vaughn came back from the bathroom, Mr. Khoury had disappeared somewhere without communicating much to the others. There wasn’t anything to do except cool their heels, so why not take a moment and answer?

  Vaughn crossed into the kitchen, seeking a little more privacy, and tapped the phone screen.

  “Mom, hey,” he said.

  “I didn’t wake you?” Mom’s voice was weary.

  “No. No, you didn’t. How are you?”

  “Tired.” She sighed.

  “Bad night?”

  “Not as bad as some.”

  “You need anything? Can I do anything for you?”

  “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

  Vaughn’s heart squeezed. Mom needed someone to lean on, and instead of being there for her, he was on a job. “Listen, Mom? What if we sent Santiago somewhere? To a facility?”

  “Rehab?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why spend money on something that won’t work, mijo?”

  He closed his eyes.

  Every time they went through this, they always talked as though it would be the last time. This would be different. There wouldn’t be a relapse. Sure, they might get a few good months, and once even a year, but before long Santiago was at it again. It was bad enough that what little jewelry Mom had left was kept in a safety deposit box. She bought used TVs so when Santiago stole them it wasn’t as much of a hit. But they’d never uttered the truth before.

  Santiago was an addict with an unbreakable addiction nothing could cure.

  “I shouldn’t have said that,” she whispered.

  “No. No, we’ve both thought it, Mom. I was just thinking, maybe he needs something different? Maybe that’s the key?” Vaughn would ask Zain. Perhaps the boss knew of something that would help because their little family was out of tricks. “Think about it. I need to get back to work. I’ll call later, okay?”

  “I’ll think about it. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.” Vaughn ended the call.

  Footsteps thumped on the stairs overhead.

  Vaughn crossed to the kitchen entrance in time to watch Ashton Khoury escort a curvy woman down the stairs. The sunlight coming through the arch caught in her hair. She’d left it piled on top of her head in that messy bun thing, but everything else about her had changed. Vaughn’s mouth went dry as she turned with the staircase and gave him a view he could truly appreciate.

  Tailored slacks hugged her hips and cupped her ass. The loose shirt hinted at the to-die-for curves underneath while still making her look pretty damn classy.

  The maid wasn’t a maid at all.

  Fuck.

  Was this Carla? The girlfriend?

  She’d changed out of the sexy shorts and tank top number into something sleeker, something befitting of a rich guy’s girl. Curvy was the right word for her. That hourglass shape begged to be held and from the way she’d moved to the music earlier, he was willing to bet she’d be fun to get his hands on. Except she was someone’s girlfriend.

  Vaughn groaned inwardly.

  He didn’t have many rules when it came to women, but he didn’t fuck around with girlfriends or wives. He’d done that once as a dumb kid and gotten burned.

  The cute-not-a-maid was off-limits. At least her stammering replies to his lame attempt at flirting made sense. She’d been polite, and he’d been an asshole.

  Great.

  What a wonderful way to start a job.

  Vaughn slid his phone into his pocket and followed the pair into the living room.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Carla said.

  Vaughn caught sight of Ashton Khoury’s face. The man was practically gray. His eyes were wide to the point Vaughn doubted Ashton was seeing this room. The man was in shock.

  Something had happened in the few moments since they’d arrived. Mr. Khoury had been obviously anxious when he showed them in, but nothing like this.

  Vaughn glanced across the room at Nolan. Their gazes snagged.

  Yeah, he wasn’t the only one who thought something was up.

  CARLA BIT HER LIP.

  Ashton was freezing up, totally in his head. It killed her to see this confident, commanding man reduced to this. One way or another, they had to get Jared back.

  “Give me your phone,” she whispered.

  Ashton dug it out of his pocket and handed it over.

  If they could get through this quietly, maybe no one would ask why Ashton was willing to jump through so many hoops
for an assistant.

  “Did something happen?” An Asian woman stepped forward. She had a no-nonsense air about her Carla liked immediately.

  It was time for Carla to be the strong one. These things went in waves. Sometimes Ashton had to be strong for her, but now it was her turn to let him lean on her. Only this time the stakes were so much higher.

  “I’m sorry, you are?” Carla glanced around the room.

  One woman. Five men. These were the ones who’d get Jared back? Didn’t they need more people?

  “You must be Carla. I’m Melody. I’m the team liaison.” The woman held out her hand. “This is Grant, he’s the Team Leader.”

  Carla dutifully shook the hands of both.

  “That’s my second, Riley. Then there’s Brenden, Nolan and Vaughn.”

  Carla nodded at each.

  Her gaze clashed with the last man’s.

  Mr. Chocolate Eyes. From earlier.

  Great. And he was part of their security team.

  “I wish we were meeting under better circumstances.” Carla smoothed a hand down her shirt and tore her gaze away from Vaughn. He had this aura around him she could get trapped in.

  Melody and Grant seemed to be the two leading this, so Carla presented Ashton’s phone screen to them.

  “Ashton got a phone call a few minutes ago from Jared’s cell phone. It was a man who said they have Jared and we need to pay up. They sent a video.” She tapped the video then handed the phone to Melody.

  She peered at the screen, brows drawn down. “It doesn’t appear they’ve hurt him. That’s good. The newspaper—is that from today? I can’t read this.”

  Ashton lifted his head and spoke, his voice rough with grief. “That’s today’s paper.”

  Grant glanced up at Carla. “That’s a very specific price tag.”

  Ashton sat up, hands spread. “I don’t have access to two billion dollars.”

  Carla wasn’t sure Ashton had two billion in assets. If they liquidated everything, she didn’t think they’d come close. That number, it felt wrong.

  “Was Mr. Khoury supposed to visit the resort site?” Melody asked.

  “Ashton wanted to, but it didn’t work out. Jared has been working closely with the project manager, so it made sense for him to make the trip without us when we had to stay here to handle problems with another deal.” Carla clasped her hands together to keep from reaching for Ashton. Her heart hurt for him.