Temptation Rising tss-1

by A. C. Arthur

  As Rome stared at the screen, he knew without a doubt that neither his mother nor Nick’s parents had known about Vance’s latest plan. A plan that had shaken all Rome’s ideals and beliefs in the man he looked up to.

  Running tired hands over his face, Rome took a deep breath, wondering who else may have read these notes. Bingham said he’d just taken the disk out of the safe-deposit box. X said he’d simply broken the encryption. Rome believed X. He trusted his friend. He did not trust Bingham, which posed yet another problem.

  “Find what you were looking for, Mr. Roman?” Baxter asked.

  Rome thought he was alone, but he wasn’t surprised at Baxter’s quiet entrance. The man moved as if his feet barely touched the ground. Over the years Rome had grown used to it. Besides, this big house might seem lonely without Baxter. More often than not, he felt lonely anyway.

  But it was the life he led, the life he had to lead.

  “Found more than I was looking for,” he answered finally. “Why didn’t Dad tell me what he was doing?”

  “Fathers protect their sons,” Baxter said, moving through the room, no doubt looking for something to pick up. But Rome wasn’t messy. To the contrary, he believed everything had a place and made sure it was there. His master bedroom was on the far left side of the house and looked as if three normal-size bedrooms could fit into it. His bed was a huge four-poster that sat in the middle of the floor directly across from a huge fireplace. Rich colors like mahogany and charcoal gray and sapphire blue decorated the space. Books lined the walls while thick duvets and plump pillows occupied the bed. The master bath was to one side; a small private exercise room, to the other. He could stay in his suite for days without needing to leave. But he didn’t. The walls surrounding him would drive his cat crazy.

  “Protect me from what? It wouldn’t have done any harm to share what he was thinking. Maybe I could have helped.”

  “You were but a child, sir. Your father was doing what he thought was best.”

  “Was getting himself killed best?”

  Baxter paused, his thin frame looking almost lost in the midst of the big room. “It was probably necessary. You would not have grown into your destiny otherwise.”

  There was that word again, destiny. His mother used it often, telling him there was a destiny for everyone, a life preordained for them. Rome thought it was all bullshit. He made his future. Yes, the job of Faction Leader, his allegiance to the tribes, that was probably planned. But his decisions led the way to what happened in the here and now.

  “Some things are still hard for you to understand.”

  “That’s because I get the feeling I still don’t know everything. If there’s more you can tell me, Baxter, please do.”

  “Timing is crucial,” Baxter said, then moved to the bed, turning down the heavy gray duvet, removing the pillows that were simply for decoration.

  He turned down Rome’s bed every night, no matter how many times Rome told him it was unnecessary. The fact that Baxter still cooked, cleaned, and basically ran this household was probably unnecessary, but Rome couldn’t imagine his life without him. He was the only family—besides Nick and X—that Rome had, pitiful as that was.

  “The Rogues are plotting something now.”

  “You are correct. How do you plan to act?”

  “I still believe in what my father wanted.” Rome sat back in the chair and sighed. “Mostly.” This new revelation wasn’t what he’d expected. He hadn’t figured out how he was going to deal with it yet.

  “All the Faction Leaders seem to feel the same. Some sort of judicial system is in order.”

  Rome nodded. “I’ve got notes on that, suggestions for who should head up the Stateside Assembly.”

  “I think it should be you.”

  “Nah, not planning to nominate myself,” Rome said. He stood, moving to his bookshelf where he had his law books.

  “You will lead them better than anyone else, Mr. Roman.”

  “Not what I want to do with my future.”

  “Sometimes your future chooses you.”

  Rome didn’t even want to ask what that meant. He wanted to check in with Ezra to make sure Kalina was safe. He hadn’t seen her since yesterday when he’d stopped by her place. The emotions roiling through him when he’d been around her then had baffled him, made him feel like some distance might be necessary. Today he’d been closed up with his father’s journals, trying to make sense of the betrayal he felt. But now she was on his mind. Truth be told, she’d never been far from it.

  “You should go to her.” Baxter’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

  “What?”

  “The female who has haunted you for so long. You should not stay away from her. Trouble is brewing in that direction, too.”

  Baxter seemed to know everything. If Rome wasn’t absolutely sure the man was human, he’d think he was some kind of tribal Seer or something. He always knew things before they happened, prophesying about the shifters as if he were one, or he’d been born in the forest himself. But that was not the case. From all Rome knew of the man, he’d always been in his father’s employ; the where and why he didn’t know, and never bothered to ask.

  “I have that under control.”

  Baxter chuckled. “Then you are not as smart as I thought. You cannot control her until you understand everything and then—” He shrugged. “Control still may not be easy.”

  And that was supposed to mean what exactly? Rome was about to ask, his face probably showing the confusion he felt, but from the desk his cell phone rang, vibrating over the smooth cherrywood, effectively ending this conversation with Baxter.

  Chapter 13

  When was the last time she’d been to a cookout?

  Checking her reflection in the full-length mirror behind her closet door, Kalina sighed. “Never.”

  She figured she looked okay in black capris and a gray T-shirt that could have been a size bigger if she cared anything about shopping, which she did not. Strappy sandals with a low heel completed her casual attire. She ran her fingers through her hair to give it an extra spike. It was growing out, so her two-toned tresses hung a little longer on the top than usual, but a trip to the beauty salon was another thing that wasn’t on her agenda. Her short haircut was not for stylish reasons, but practical ones—she didn’t like to do hair any more than she liked to shop. Maybe because growing up she didn’t have the money to get into either habit. It would make sense that once she became a working adult she’d readily do all the things she’d been deprived of when she was young. Instead, Kalina shied away from them all. Especially the socializing part.

  Today, however, was going to be different.

  Last night she’d lain in her bed thinking of her life, of things she could possibly want in the future but would never have if she kept on the track she was on. She loved her job, wanted to excel at it more than anything else, but suddenly she realized that work might not be enough. It could have been the way Mel talked about her husband or her kids. Or maybe it was the invite to today’s family function that kicked her mind into overdrive. Or maybe it was the way Rome kissed her, the way he looked at her like she was possibly the only woman in the world.

  Now, that was a crock if ever she’d heard one. There was no happily ever after in her future; her life was what it was. Right?

  Moving to the bed, she picked up her cell phone and grabbed the clutch purse she’d pulled out of the back of her closet to drop it in. It chirped, signaling that she had a text. Then she saw it was from Ferrell.

  Need an update. Soon.

  God, did he ever stop? It was Sunday afternoon, and the last thing she wanted to think about was how she didn’t have enough information to convict Rome Reynolds.

  Kalina ignored the message and the urge to spend the day trying like hell to find something on a man she was attracted to.

  Forty-five minutes later she pulled up in front of a red-brick duplex with black shutters. She parked her car and just sat there. All
the way over she’d been motivated and encouraged, listening to her favorite R&B station as she drove. Now that she was actually here, nervousness set in. Or was it anxiousness? Either way, her heart was beating a little faster than it should have been. Stepping out of the car, she inhaled the humid air. She should have started walking toward the house, instead she stopped, stood perfectly still, and waited.

  Kalina wasn’t sure what she was waiting for but there was something, somewhere; she could feel it. She just needed to wait for it to …

  A car whizzed by and she turned quickly, her hand going to her clutch as if her gun were there. It wasn’t. She’d convinced herself that today was about pleasure and not work. There was one in the glove compartment of her car, but she didn’t have anything on her person.

  Her gaze scanned up and down the street, but her body didn’t move. Another car went by, this person obviously taking the thirty-five mph speed limit seriously. It was a regular car, a Toyota she thought as it passed her. She memorized the license plate and noted a driver and a front passenger. Ridiculous information, but it stuck in her mind regardless.

  There was a snapping sound from behind and once again she jumped. Somebody stepped on something, and it broke. But when she turned there was no one there.

  “Dammit!”

  Taking a breath to steady herself, she swore she was losing her mind. Well, that would have to take place tomorrow. The nuthouse, where she was undoubtedly headed, could hold her bed one more day. She’d been invited to a cookout and dammit, she was going!

  With sure steps she walked up the short walkway and took the steps one by one, all the while feeling the hairs at the back of her neck prickle. The air was still, yet something brushed along her skin. Lifting her hand to ring the doorbell, she looked back only once, to see nothing but parked cars, the street, normalcy. Shaking her head, Kalina turned just in time to see Mel pull the door open and smile at her.

  “You made it! I’m so happy you came.” Melanie was already reaching her long arms out to grasp Kalina in a hug.

  They’d just seen each other at work two days ago and they hadn’t even been acquainted that long. This type of reunion should have been reserved for a somewhat closer relationship.

  Kalina hugged her back, letting the connection sink in. Then again, it didn’t, not really. They were both women, yet it still felt like they were opposites.

  Stepping inside the wood-paneled foyer gave Kalina a chance to shake the feeling of being watched or followed, or whatever had her jumping at shadows.

  “I have such a surprise for you. Well, it’s not a surprise for me, I actually think it’s a cool idea. That’s why I thought of it. But Pete’s like, ‘Don’t interfere,’ blah, blah, blah. But I’m like, ‘I know what I’m doing.’ So how are you? You look great. Wish I could look sexy in simply pants and a shirt.”

  All this was said in one breath as Mel walked Kalina from the foyer through a furniture- and knickknack-crowded living room and dining room, into a kitchen with counters overflowing with food.

  “I’m fine. Thanks,” Kalina said when they finally stopped.

  Melanie went to the refrigerator to pull out yet another bowl of something. Just how many people are coming to this little shindig? she wondered.

  “Ah, need help with anything?” she offered but honestly didn’t know what she could do in here. Domestication was not one of Kalina’s strong points. Sure, she could cook enough to keep herself from starving, and she cleaned house because living in a pigsty was not something she enjoyed. But that’s where the Susie Homemaker bit ended.

  “Sure, grab another twelve-pack out of that box. We can dump those in the cooler out back. I’m sure they’re almost finished with the ones I put out earlier.”

  “No problem.” Kalina moved to the corner of the kitchen, which looked like a liquor store with twelve-packs of beer stacked almost as tall as she was. Grabbing two, she turned and said, “Where to?”

  “Here.” Mel removed the top from a plastic bowl filled with fruit and stuck a big spoon inside. “Follow me,” she said, carrying the bowl and her cheerful smile out the back door.

  Kalina followed, stepping out onto a deck full of more furniture and now people as well.

  With a nod of her red curls Mel signaled toward the cooler. Kalina walked to that side of the deck, pulled up the cover, and began unloading the beer bottles. A few seconds later Melanie was pulling on her arm again.

  “Here, let me introduce you,” she said. “Kalina Harper, my co-worker, this is Stephen Johnson and Eddie and Jamia Henderson. Stephen, Eddie, Jamia, this is Kalina.”

  Kalina smiled, reached out a hand, and shook those of the threesome staring at her with bright smiles. Eddie and Jamia were a couple, that was evident by the way Eddie’s arm extended to shake her hand then hurriedly resumed its post around Jamia’s waist. Stephen was alone, dateless … just like her. It only took about two seconds to see what was going on.

  “And this is my hubby, Pete.” Mel kept talking, leaving Kalina to stand alone while she went over to the grill and wrapped her arms around a tall, husky man with dark hair that was more than a touch too long.

  “It’s nice to meet you all,” Kalina said, making sure her handshake with Stephen was the shortest of the greetings.

  “Mel says you just started working at the firm, in accounting right?” Stephen Johnson with his tall athletic build and crystalline blue eyes asked. He looked like a superhero. Really? His hair was perfect, black and shiny, his eyes so bright they almost looked fake, his face chiseled with iconic perfection. He looked just like Superman, who just so happened to be her favorite superhero of all time.

  Unfortunately, that was in the animated dream world of a teenager. Here and now, he was an eerily attractive guy.

  “Yes, I did,” she answered belatedly.

  “How are you liking it so far?”

  “It’s a learning experience.”

  Jamia laughed. “That means she doesn’t like it.”

  Kalina smiled. “Not really. Let’s just say the jury’s still out.” That was true of a lot of things lately, including the boss she was determined not to like.

  “I get it,” Jamia said, then looked up at Eddie with what Kalina actually thought were stars in her eyes.

  They were a cute couple. He was thick, not fat, but definitely on the positive side for the possibility. She was shorter, her head full of long bronze-colored braids that reached down her back, a good foot below his. They couldn’t stop touching each other, couldn’t resist the enigmatic pull between them.

  Kalina wondered how that felt. How would it feel to be that inextricably attached to someone? And how long did it last?

  In the next hour Pete burned two hamburgers before finally giving Kalina one that wasn’t going to leave charred flecks between her teeth. Eddie and Jamia thought it was funny, joking about how Pete was the worst on the grill but how Mel continued to have these get-togethers. Mel’s kids came in and out, the older ones with plans of their own, just grabbing something to eat before they left; the twins had more attractive plans that consisted of sitting in front of the television in the basement watching some sort of cartoon marathon.

  After Kalina had finished eating Stephen happily removed her trash and came back to sit beside her.

  “Mel must really like you if she invited you to her house. She’s usually a very private person when it comes to mixing business with pleasure,” he said, his fingers wrapping around the neck of a bottle of beer.

  “I think she’s really nice,” Kalina responded honestly. “I don’t do a lot of socializing.”

  “Is that by choice?”

  She nodded and he smiled.

  “Maybe I could change that. Have dinner with me?”

  He was a nice guy. She should feel something for him, or at least she thought she should. But beyond being cordial, she just didn’t. “We just had dinner,” she said trying to keep the mood light.

  “You know what I mean. A date, you and me?
”

  Him and her. For a few seconds Kalina tried to let that idea take root. But try as she might, she couldn’t see herself with Stephen. Or Reed from the precinct. All she could see was Rome.

  “I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” she said even though she wasn’t too pleased about her thoughts returning to the man who seemed determined to ruin every aspect of her life. Because not coming up with any goods on him to make her case just wasn’t enough. No, he’d had to touch her, to kiss her, to make her want, need something she’d never thought to have before.

  She did not do relationships—sex maybe, and not even that except solo for a very long time. She’d never imagined being the other half of a couple, wasn’t even sure she’d know how to be with someone on a long-term basis.

  And really, what the hell was going on with her? Two men hitting on her in two days was definitely out of the ordinary.

  “I get it,” he said with a contemplative look on his face. “You’re already seeing someone.”

  “No,” she answered quickly. “I’m not. I mean, I don’t have anyone. I’m just not really into dating right now.”

  “You’re not into dating me.”

  She sighed. “I’m really not seeing anyone.”

  “But you’d like to be. Does he know?” Stephen’s voice was friendly, his eyes just a little pensive.

  “Does who know what?”

  “That you’re interested in him.”

  “I’m not—” she started, then paused. She didn’t know Stephen well. Hell, she didn’t know anybody well thanks to her self-induced solitary status. She could talk to her therapist, but she despised him and would much rather stick toothpicks in her eyes and walk on hot coals then sit on that couch and open up to his sick, leery glare. She was a mess. Beyond a mess really, but Stephen seemed game for listening to her so she figured what the hell.

  “I think he knows.”

  Still smiling, but not totally happy with her admission, Stephen added, “And? Is he interested?”