Seduced by the Loan Shark (9 page)

"Do you think he'll make it? I mean, you

must see a lot of gamblers fall off the

wagon."

Hagen glanced at me. I saw the spark of

sympathy in his dark eyes. "I'm not going

to lie to you, Cassie. Most of them come

back. Maybe not that first year but the

second? They get stressed. They realize

gambling wasn't the problem but a

symptom of something else that was

wrong in their lives. When they realize

life isn't magically fixed, they come

shuffling through those doors and ask to

see the sports book or the ponies or an

invite to a poker game."

My gaze moved to the windshield. Cars

whizzed by us on the interstate. My worst

fears had been confirmed by Hagen. I had

no doubt that Ronnie would go to the

meetings and be vigilant—but for how

long? How long could he stay away from

the poker games and the races and the

sports betting? How long after the bruises

faded and his broken bones healed would

he last?

"He needs to make a clean break,

Cassie." Hagen interrupted my troubled

thoughts as he turned into my apartment

complex. He pulled into one of the visitor

parking spots near my building.

"What?"

"A clean break, sweetheart," he

repeated and climbed out of the car. He

walked around to my side and opened my

door, offering me his hand to help me.

"Your brother has got to get out of

Houston once he's done with his program.

He's got to get away from the temptation

here. He needs to go somewhere quiet."

"Where would he go?" Walking toward

my building, I considered my paltry bank

account. Ronnie didn't have a penny to his

name. After paying Hagen the four grand

yesterday, I had almost nothing to mine.

"And how?"

Hagen followed me up the stairs to my

apartment door. "As to the where, I have

no idea. Some place small would be my

best guess. It can't be that hard to find a

small town in Texas where a man can

disappear and get a clean start."

"No," I agreed as we entered my place.

Hagen slipped his hand inside his suit

jacket. "Here's your how."

Speechless, I stared at the thick

envelope he'd retrieved from his jacket

pocket. It was the same one I'd left in his

office yesterday. He pressed it into my

hand. "Hagen, you can't…"

"I can do whatever I want." Though his

remark was arrogant, the kiss he placed

upon my lips was sweet and gentle.

"When it's time, you give that to Ronnie.

Let him have his fresh start."

"But this money is yours."

He shook his head. "It was never mine.

It was always yours."

"Why are you being so nice to me?" The

whispered words hung in the air between

us.

"I don't know," he admitted finally.

"There's just something about you that

makes me want to be good."

His words stunned me. He looked so

vulnerable as he spoke. I could see that he

was just as scared as I was about

embarking on this relationship.

"I think that might the nicest thing a man

has ever said to me." I caressed his face,

the stubble on his cheeks rasping my

fingertips. "You've really surprised me,

you know that? You're nothing like I

thought you would be."

He cupped my backside and let his hand

slide down the back of my thigh. "In a

good way, I hope."

"A very good way," I said, brushing my

lips across his. My breath caught in my

throat when his fingers glided under my

skirt and along my inner thigh. "What are

you doing?"

"What does it feel like I'm doing?" He

nuzzled his nose against mine.

"It feels like you're trying to seduce me

again."

"Is it working?"

"Yes." I smiled and kissed him. The

envelope fell to the floor near my foot. I

gasped as his fingertips found their way

between my legs. He touched my hot flesh

and stabbed his tongue between my lips.

He tasted of coffee and sugar and cream. I

moaned against his mouth and let him have

his way with me.

"I want you, Cassie."

"Now?"

"Always." He scooped me up, locked

my front door and carried me to my

bedroom. After he placed me on the bed,

he climbed over me and shed his jacket.

"What is it?"

I frowned up at him. "What do you

mean?"

He unbuttoned his shirt. "You're here

with me but you're also far away. What

are you thinking about, Cassie?"

I couldn't lie to him. "I'm thinking that I

owe you an obscene amount of money. I

know you said it was a gift but it's hard

for me to have that kind of debt between

us."

Hagen dipped his head and captured my

mouth in a sensual kiss that made my toes

curl. "I told you. It's a gift. It's done."

"Let me pay you back. Even if it's just

half," I said, my tone pleading. "I'll get a

second job but let me pay you something."

He nibbled the curve of my throat and

sucked hard on a sensitive patch that made

me shiver. "I've got a better idea. Let's

barter."

"Barter?" I inhaled sharply as his hand

moved between my thighs again.

"I gave you something you needed. Now

you give me what I want."

I gazed up into his dark eyes. The spark

of lust there left me shivering and needy. I

wrapped my legs around Hagen's waist

and rose up to meet his passionate kiss.

"And what do you want from me?"

Hagen plundered my mouth and

penetrated me with those thick fingers of

his all at the same time. Gasping, I arched

my back and clutched his arms. He

grinned sexily and nipped at my chin.

"Everything, Cassie. I want it all—with

you."

Giggling and vibrating with desire, I

answered him with a pleasured sigh. "I'm

yours, Hagen. All yours…"

The End
.

QUID PRO QUO

EXCERPT

"I need money, Greg."

His gaze jumped from his laptop screen

to my face. Surprise brightened his face.

He blinked a few times. "How the hell did

you get in here?"

I flashed the house key he'd given me a

few months ago. "I rang the doorbell, like,

five times but you didn't answer."

"Sorry." He sighed loudly, sat back and

wiped a hand down his face "I've been

mentally replaying the call from this

afternoon and checking the transcripts."

I stepped into his home office and

noticed he still wore his all-black

uniform. The harsh-looking material and

military style lent an intimidating air to

Greg. Apparently his latest SWAT shift

hadn't gone well. I'd learned to recognize

that haggard, pained look on his face as

the one he often wore when calls went

south. It wasn't an easy job, that's for sure.

"Bad call?" I walked behind his desk

and leaned back against it. I didn't miss

the way his gaze zeroed in on my bare legs

and the taut, slim-fitting cut of my too-

short skirt.

He didn't answer the question. Instead,

he frowned and gestured to my skirt.

"That's too short, Nez."

"I don't like it any more than you do but

it's the uniform all the waitresses wear."

"I don't like you working at that place.

It's dangerous and the clientele is low-

rent."

My lips twitched with amusement. Greg

had been looking out for me since I was

thirteen. He'd made the mistake of dating

my nutjob mother for a couple of weeks.

She'd tried to pull her usual con on him

but he'd been too smart. One morning a

few weeks after they'd stopped seeing one

another, I'd woken up in our crappy little

apartment to discover she'd split. Next

thing I knew I was in Houston's foster care

system. Not exactly a great place to be but

not as bad as living with my erratic

mother, all things considered.

Greg had made a point of getting to

know my social worker and had kept an

eye on me as I bounced from house to

house and group home to group home. I'd

taken heart in the knowledge that I always

had someone to trust and turn to if things

got ugly. He'd never failed me. That's why

I'd come to him tonight.

"Well you don't have to worry about me

working there anymore." I rubbed the back

of my neck and sighed. "I got fired

tonight."

His brow furrowed. "Fired? For what?"

"For punching some jackass who

thought it was okay to stick his hand up my

skirt," I explained matter-of-factly.

"What?" Rage filled his voice. "One of

those low-life scum bags touched you?"

"Only once," I replied. "Believe me. He

paid for it."

Greg's gaze fell to my left hand. He

picked it up and gazed at my swollen,

bruised knuckles. "You need to ice this."

"I did on the bus." I waited for him to

start in on me riding the bus this late at

night but he didn't. He surprised me by

lightly tracing the bruised ridges of my

hand. The soft touch made my belly flutter.

I'd tried to convince myself that my

attraction to Greg was some kind of hero

worship but deep down inside I knew it

was so much more than that.

But he was nearly forty years old and I

was just nineteen. He was a decorated

SWAT cop. I was an art student. We were

two different people in two different

worlds. We could be friends but I couldn't

see how it could ever be more than that.

Greg's gaze slid from my hand to my

face. I spotted the flash of lust there. I'd

inherited my mother's bedroom eyes and

curves so I'd learned to recognize that

spark of interest at an early age. To stay

safe, I'd figured out how to read men and

anticipate their moves.

It wasn't the first time Greg had looked

at me like that. A few months ago, on my

birthday, he'd taken me out for dinner. I'd

worn this sexy little black dress and killer

heels. I think it was the first time he'd ever

seen me as a young woman and not some

abandoned kid he'd needed to look after

and protect. It must have been a startling

revelation for him.

After that dinner, he'd been scarce for a

week or two. I figured he'd felt weird

about lusting after me. When he'd called

me again to check up on me, I'd just

assumed he'd dealt with his unwanted

feelings and moved on from them. Now, I

wasn't so sure.

It shouldn't have excited me so much but

it did. His warm, rough hand clasped

mine. He gave it a gentle squeeze. "I think

we need to talk."

I swallowed hard and stared down at

him. "Okay."

"I know you waitressed in that club

because the money was good but I won't

have you degrading yourself in a place

like that anymore."

"Degrading myself? It wasn't a strip

joint, Greg. It was just a night club."

"With a clientele of drug dealers and

gang bangers," he shot back. With a shake

of his head, he continued, "If you want to

get a job, find one in a coffee shop or

some other place where you can keep

most of your clothes on, Nez."

I rolled my eyes. "Do you think I haven't

already applied to places like that? The

job market sucks, Greg. My class schedule

doesn't make things easy. Everyone under

twenty-five wants a job with the same

hours I need."

"Then we come up with some kind of

alternative."

I arched my eyebrows. "We?"

He nodded. "I promised I'd look after

you, Nez. I let you take that job at the club

because I didn't think it was my place to

make decisions for you. You're a grown

woman."

"Yes, I am." I bristled with annoyance

as I waited for the inevitable lecture.

"I should have stepped in to protect you

and guide you. I'm sorry that I failed you."

I hadn't been expecting that. "What?

You didn't fail me, Greg. You've never