by Tawny Weber
He’s lying. She’s lying. And before long, they’re lying. Together. In bed...
Born into a con artist family, Maya Nicholas abandoned the grifting life to live on the straight and narrow (and somewhat dull) years ago. But when her family is threatened—and the swindlers are on the verge of becoming the swindled—Maya swings into action. All she needs is a stand-in boyfriend, and the charming, tasty-as-sin Simon Barton will do quite nicely, thanks.
But Simon has a little lie of his own. He’s FBI, and Maya is his inside track to her less-savory relations. It’s a mutual using, which quickly turns into a scorching mutual attraction.
In fact, their naughty little sexcapades are the only things they aren’t faking!
Look what people are saying about this talented author…
”Just for the Night is a witty, sensual contemporary romance that will have you quickly turning the pages to see what happens next.”
—Romance Junkies
“Just for the Night is a terrific character-driven romance, well worth a spot on your ‘must read’ list.”
—Eye On Romance
“Tawny Weber’s newest release, Breaking the Rules, is a thrilling story that will have readers laughing out loud at the surprising situations that arise throughout the story.”
—Romance Junkies
“If you’re looking for a great read that will warm you up on a cold night look no further!”
—Night Owl Reviews on Breaking the Rules
“A Babe in Toyland delivers a stunning performance that completely satisfies.”
—Noveltalk
“A Babe in Toyland is absolutely hysterical sexy fun!...I was giggling the whole time.”
—Joyfully Reviewed
“Great characters, an excellent story and heat enough to ignite the senses makes Riding the Waves an excellent read to lead us into September. Another fantastic tale from Tawny Weber!”
—CataRomance
Dear Reader,
I recognize a lot of myself in my heroine Maya Black. She’s stubborn, unflinchingly loyal and a total daddy’s girl. And like myself, she found her perfect guy. Simon is not only sexy, but he’s clever enough to keep her guessing and smart enough to accept her—family and all.
Sex, Lies and Midnight also features another character who’s very close to my heart—Dottie the cat, who lives at the Furry Friends Animal Shelter. You can check out Dottie, and all the other Blaze Authors Pet Project pets, on the Blaze Authors blog: http://blazeauthors.com. Please come by and say hi! And if you’re on the web, be sure to drop by my website at www.tawnyweber.com. While you’re there, check out my members-only section with its special contests, excerpts and other fun.
Happy New Year!
Tawny Weber
Tawny Weber
Sex, Lies and Midnight
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tawny Weber is usually found dreaming up stories in her California home, surrounded by dogs, cats and kids. When she’s not writing hot, spicy stories for the Harlequin Blaze line, she’s shop- ping for the perfect pair of shoes or drooling over Johnny Depp pictures (when her husband isn’t looking, of course). Come by and visit her on the web at www.tawnyweber.com or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/TawnyWeber.RomanceAuthor.
Books by Tawny Weber
HARLEQUIN BLAZE
324—DOUBLE DARE
372—DOES SHE DARE?
418—RISQUÉ BUSINESS
462—COMING ON STRONG
468—GOING DOWN HARD
492—FEELS LIKE THE FIRST TIME
513—BLAZING BEDTIME STORIES, VOLUME III: “You Have to Kiss a Lot of Frogs...”
564—RIDING THE WAVES
579—IT MUST HAVE BEEN THE MISTLETOE…: “A Babe in Toyland”
592—BREAKING THE RULES
612—JUST FOR THE NIGHT
656—SEX, LIES AND MISTLETOE
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To my first ever hero. Thank you for your acceptance, your encouragement and for being such a wonderful example for me. You’re amazing. I love you, Dad.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Prologue
“YOU MUST BE PLEASED with yourself.”
“Definitely pleased,” Tobias Black agreed with the caller. “And a little surprised that our own sheriff turned out to be the dealer of sex drugs.”
“The drug ring is broken but it doesn’t end with him. Someone higher was pulling strings. Any idea who?”
Taking the phone off Speaker, Tobias lifted the handset to his ear, then stared at the glowing tip of his cigar and considered the question. A month ago, he’d chosen to bring the FBI in to help bust the drug ring specializing in a new-fangled form of Ecstasy that’d been blazing through his small town. His eldest son, Caleb, had helped the FBI bust that ring.
He’d brought the FBI in knowing than someone had more in mind that peddling sex drugs. Someone with a grudge against him. But as far as he was concerned, the FBI could butt out now. Tobias preferred to figure out who was trying to knife him in the spine himself. He was funny that way.
“No idea who was issuing Kendall’s orders, but I’m not worried,” Tobias lied smoothly. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Even with the new sheriff in your corner, this time you just might be in over your head. My resources have uncovered yet more criminal activity and quite a few rumblings of something big coming soon.”
Shit. He didn’t need this. In his mind, the FBI had had a single purpose. To use their connections to bring his son home. That plan had worked, Caleb was now the acting sheriff, engaged to a pretty little thing in town, and slowly allowing Tobias to rebuild a bridge between them.
Right now, Tobias was busy setting into action goal number two. Better known as luring his daughter, Maya, back home. He didn’t have time to keep playing these cop games.
He stared through the smoke at the awkwardly shaped ceramic bowl, glazed a brilliant red with fingerprints all along the edges. Every once in a while, he wondered if he was still smoking his daily cigar just for the joy of using the ashtray his five-year-old daughter had made. A dynamic, controlled man, he didn’t consider overt sentiment a weakness. But he did consider not having more to be sentimental about a waste.
“I’m sure your associates at the FBI are looking at Kendall’s associates and haven’t given up on discovering who’s behind it all,” Tobias said. No longer having the taste for a relaxing cigar, he stubbed it out and stood to pace. “In the meantime, we’ll handle things here in Black Oak. Caleb has years of experience with the DEA, and he’ll make a fine sheriff. There’s nothing to worry about here.”
“That’s not what I’m hearing,” the man on the phone reminded him. “Someone is gunning for you. And instead of dealing with that, you’re busy playing footsie with a woman young enough to be your daughter.”
Tobias gave a wicked grin. “You make me sound like a dirty old lech, saying it that way.”
“What else should you sound like?”
&nbs
p; “A clever man who knows just which buttons to push?”
Eight years ago, Tobias had made a vital mistake. After years of pulling cons on his own, of only working, occasionally, with his children, he’d taken on a partner.
Greta von Lautner.
It’d been the last straw for his volatile children.
Caleb had left to join the DEA, tired of his father’s life of crime. Gabriel had accused his father of thinking with his penis, and walked out vowing to prove himself a better con than his old man had ever been.
And Maya? Tobias’s sweet little angel had been heartbroken, not only at the change in dynamics, but at what she saw as being ousted from her place in her father’s life. She’d tried to stick around, though. Then Greta had blown the con they were in the middle of; she’d left Maya vulnerable. Tobias had worked fast to clear the evidence and spring Maya from jail, but it’d been too late.
She’d walked out of that police department and his life in the same hour. Now, seven years later, it was time to reel her back.
“Those buttons you’re pushing are trouble. Give me a good crime to solve any day over anything that involves women.”
Tobias sighed, knowing he was treading a dangerous line.
“There’s no other way. I want Maya home, and the only way she’s going to return is if she thinks she’s saving me from repeating a huge mistake.”
“You’re playing a dangerous game. You want to con your kids, do it after we’ve figured out who is trying to set you up.”
“No game worth playing doesn’t carry an element of danger,” Tobias returned with a wicked laugh. “And the ball is already rolling. I can’t stop it now.”
“But you didn’t plan for these stakes when you started. You just wanted your kids home. Now you’re fighting for your reputation, your freedom and possibly your life.”
Tobias looked out the window at the holiday lights twinkling merrily, making the view of Black Oak almost magical.
“If it reunites my family, even those stakes are worthwhile,” he declared.
“You’d just better hope they aren’t reuniting for your sentencing hearing.” There was a pause, then a deep sigh. “Or if the rumblings I’m hearing are correct, at your funeral.”
1
THERE WAS NOTHING like a short, glittery skirt, long legs encased in smoky stockings and spiked do-me heels to make a man sit up and take notice.
And Simon Barton considered it his duty to watch this particular woman currently shimmying her hips rhythmically on the dance floor. The investment firm’s holiday party was in full swing, complete with barely dressed women, many soon-to-be-regretted-when-sober PDAs, an open bar and a lush buffet.
For a people watcher, this party was better than the circus, juggling clowns and—Simon noted one guy slipping his hand down the dress of the sloshed woman draped over his lap—a porno flick, all rolled into a single package.
But he only had eyes for one woman.
Not because she was gorgeous. Although she was.
Long black hair fell in curls almost to the tiny waist of a vivid green dress that had as much sparkle as her hips had personality. The fabric hugged a body made to bring grown men to their knees, long sleeves and a high neck giving the illusion of modesty at odds with the sexy placemat that passed for a skirt. Legs way too long for such a petite body were encased in smoke black stockings leading all the way down to a pair of strappy sandals so high, Simon could only wince.
The woman was fascinating.
Not because she seemed to have this knack for making herself invisible, despite her striking looks. Although she did. Every time one of, from what Simon could tell were the high muckety-mucks wandered past, she shifted. Unobtrusively placing another dancer, diner or chit-chatter between her and the higher-ups.
And not because she was a puzzle. Although, oh yeah, she was. One he was sure he’d solve. Sooner or later.
Because she was the key to his future.
He felt, rather than heard, his cell phone ring in the pocket of his slacks.
His gaze still locked on the overblown beauty on the dance floor, Simon pulled out his phone. He glanced at the readout, grimaced, then stepped into a quiet corner where his view was unimpeded, but the sound was muted.
“Barton.”
“I thought you were on assignment.”
“I wrapped it up. Now I’m on personal time.”
“Watching Maya Black is a personal thing for you?”
Christ. Did Hunter have eyes everywhere? Simon gave an infinitesimal wince, his eyes still on those lush hips encased in holiday green. “A man would have to be three-times dead not to have a personal reaction to watching a woman like her.”
“How’d you find her?”
“I’m a trained FBI agent,” Simon said sardonically. “An assumed name is a piece of cake.”
“You hacked her file?” Hunter’s words were matter-of-fact.
Simon shifted his eyes off the sweetly swaying hips to inspect his fingernails. “Would I do that?”
“In a heartbeat.”
Simon grinned.
Whether he knew it or not, Hunter was Simon’s mentor. The man whose career he’d used as a template for his own. Simon wanted nothing more than to climb the same ladders and spark the same attention. The Deputy Director was considered the elite of the elite. A man with a reputation for making the rules work for him, even as he worked around them. Assignment to Hunter’s department was Simon’s Holy Grail. There he’d rise through the ranks at least twice as fast as anywhere else. But Hunter’s team was so exclusive, he only brought in major players. Agents who’d made huge busts.
Busts like the Black case. Simon’s gaze wandered back to the tempting sway of Maya Black’s hips. Since it was totally inappropriate to lust after a suspect, he tried to convince his body that the surge of energy he felt at the sight of her was because she was his ticket to a major promotion.
“Why are you watching her?” he challenged, tossing the ball back in Hunter’s court.
“Who says I am? I might be watching you.”
Simon’s laugh garnered more than one appreciative female glance. Not unusual. He got a lot of looks from ladies. Sometimes he used the advantages his tall, well-built golden-boy looks offered. Other times he ignored them.
This time, he nodded at a couple of them, but shifted his weight, making it clear he wasn’t looking for more. He might not be on the job, per se, but this was all business.
“Maya Black isn’t a person of interest. You’re out of bounds.”
Simon shrugged that off. He figured boundaries were a fluid thing. He only paid attention to the ones that served him.
“She’s got a record,” he pointed out.
“Arrest, no conviction.”
“She was guilty.”
“We don’t know that. No,” Hunter interrupted before Simon could haul out his well-worn argument, “we don’t. We have conjecture, speculation and a whole lot of circumstantial supposition.”
What they had were sloppy agents who had obviously been incompetent. Maya Black had been busted for computer invasion, breaking into the files of a well-placed businessman with a bad reputation. The case should have been open and shut, but the arresting officers had neglected to confiscate all of the computers on site when they’d brought her in. Within hours, the evidence had disappeared, the arrest compromised. Maya Black released.
Simon shook his head in disgust.
“She was running a Ponzi con with her old man and bungled it. If the agent in charge had been patient, he’d have had a solid case.”
“That’s your opinion,” Hunter said, his tone one degree colder than before. It took Simon a heartbeat to remember that the agent in charge of the Black case was Hunter’s father.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m not here on official business. I’m just here, checking out the view,” he hedged, returning to the reason for Hunter’s call.
“You’re stepping on dangerous ground,” Hunter warned.<
br />
“I live for danger.” That wasn’t the official FBI motto, but Simon had seen enough of it in his nine years with the agency that he figured he had the right to use it as an excuse.
“Don’t die for it,” Hunter responded in typical fashion before hanging up.
Simon grinned. You had to like the guy. He was crazy smart, scary intuitive and could kick some serious ass, too. And he didn’t hold the reins too tight on his agents. Which was why Simon wasn’t too worried about stepping outside the lines in this matter. Hunter was more about results than he was about micromanaging. Yet another reason Simon wanted that transfer. Working with the elite would let him hone his skills, and fast track him toward his own shot at Deputy Director.
Something he’d dreamed of since he was a kid. That dream had been the impetus to haul himself out of the dregs that was his childhood. Not just to survive, but to thrive. Making that dream come true would prove, not just to him, but to everyone who’d ever doubted him, that he was more than the loser with no future.
Which brought him back to the voluptuous delight laughing and doing the twist by the twinkling lights of the ten-foot Christmas tree. She was hot. She was sexy. And she was his ticket. Not to the next rung on the ladder, but to jumping up three or four rungs at once.
Tobias Black was a legend. Reputed con artist who’d done more jobs than a hooker in the financial district at lunchtime. He was slick, quick and according to most, untouchable. Intel had him retiring to go straight about five years back, but the statute of limitations wasn’t up on all of his crimes yet. Simon knew that busting the old man, where so many had failed over the years, would be a guarantee of fame, accolades and a corner office in FBI headquarters, D.C.
He hadn’t figured out how, yet. But he was pretty sure the guy’s only daughter would be his key. He just had to wait for the right break. That he’d already been waiting for two years, checking in on Maya from time to time, didn’t bother him. Patience was a weapon he’d honed to a razor-sharp edge.
Every few months he laid over in San Francisco to do a little recon and see what she was up to. Sooner or later, she’d get edgy and tire of this straight game she was playing.