Temptation, The Complete Serial Series 1-4 (The Temptation Serial Series) (19 page)

Dalton pulled the cruiser into Wanda’s. It was ten o’clock and we were technically off the clock, but the other unit on duty was handling a domestic disturbance and Chief wanted someone at Wanda’s.

We volunteered to stay on until the show was over, and Chief was happy for our willingness to take one for the team. He didn’t know we both planned to go whether we were on or off duty, and brownie points with him were never a bad thing.

Parking in the back was our only option; the tires of the cruiser crunching the gravel as we rolled along and pulled in beside the dumpster. It was the last space available and it was nine-fifty. Ten minutes ‘til show time.

I believed Brooklyn when she said she didn’t strip, but I couldn’t help wondering what exactly her work wardrobe consisted of. If it was anything like the lingerie she wore in the photo shoot the other night, I was going to break someone’s neck tonight.

My partner read my mind, or my expression, at least. “Keep your shit under control,” Dalton warned.

I nodded once. I would try.

“There’ll be a lot of people looking at her.”

“It’s a show, dipshit. I know that.”

He shoved me over as we walked. “I mean
looking
-looking at her. Looking at her goods, brother. Just don’t lose it. Chief would have us both by the balls.”

Again, I just nodded.

Dalton being Dalton continued, “By the way, are yours still blue?”

It was my turn to shove him.

He chuckled. “You have to hit that. For me. Please, Colt.”

***

Women and men filled every space at Wanda’s and she was grinning from ear to ear from behind the bar. She ducked beneath the counter and came over for a hug. “I didn’t even have to call you this time! Does it have anything to do with our star performer?” Wanda waggled her eyebrows teasingly and slapped me with her hand towel.

“Chief wants us to make sure things don’t get out of hand,” I told her.

Dalton busted up laughing by my left side.

Wanda ducked back under the bar, promising to talk more later. She went to work, filling shots and popping the top off of beer bottles. It was amazing how fast she worked, but years of practice made her efficient, to say the least.

The lights dimmed and I noticed the black stage curtain was pulled. Dalton nudged me when the music cut off and the crowd quieted. “Show time.”

The curtain opened, revealing what looked like a box with clouded windows. Then a deep, pulsing bass filled the room.
Chains
by Nick Jonas flowed from the speakers and a light inside the box illuminated a shadow. Brooklyn’s shadow. She was shadow-dancing, and fuck if I didn’t like it. The only thing I didn’t like was that every other man in the room liked it, too.

“Fuck me,” Dalton mumbled from beside me.

“Shut up, Dalt.”

He took his cell out and started to take a picture, but one growl from me and he put the damn thing away.

“All right, I won’t take a pic. But I
am
committing this to memory. The spank bank requires regular deposits.”

The look I gave him wiped the grin off his face. “Sorry. I swear, I won’t. Sorry, Colt.”

When that song went off, the lights did too. I heard her heels clicking across the stage and heard the moment when she took the microphone in her hands. Background music began filling the room.

Then the lights came up, revealing every inch of her. She was in a black corset with a skirt that was short in the front and long in the back, heels that begged to be wrapped around my fucking waist, and fuck me if she wasn’t wearing a garter and fucking thigh-highs. I wanted to trace my tongue down the seams that ran up the back of her legs, all the way to heaven.

She was singing. My God, she was amazing. Her sultry voice sang Annie Lennox’s
I Put a Spell on You
…and she did. With every word that passed through those pouty lips and every sway of her hips, she put a spell on me. She was a spider who had lured me into her silken web, and I never wanted to be free.

When the song ended, the lights came up and she waved; smiling as everyone applauded. Holding the mic at her lips, she thanked the crowd. “This is what I do. This is
all
I do, so if you all would be so kind as to stop calling me the Vegas Slut, Tramp, Whore, Hooker, or whatever other nasty names you might have heard or used, that’d be great.”

Then she dropped the mic on the floor with a thud and walked off the stage.

That’s my girl!

My legs quivered as I teetered down the steps. My heels were ridiculous and it had been too long since I last wore them. I should have at least practiced in them. Morgan met me at the bottom and threw her arms around my neck. “You were phenomenal!” she squealed and hugged me tighter.

“Thanks – now help me get out of this costume.”

“You sure you don’t want Officer Hottie to help you?”

I knew Colt was there, because I saw him and Dalton standing near the bar. There must have been a hundred people in there and they all watched, but I only felt his eyes on me.

“Oh, Archer came too! He sat in the front row. Wasn’t that sweet?” Morgan gushed.

“Yeah.” I walked to the back room. When the door closed and she began releasing the hooks on the back of my steel-boned corset, I sighed. I could inhale again. That was such a sweet feeling.

She rifled through my bag, pulling out the clothes I’d trusted her to pack. I should have packed it myself. I wanted my yoga pants. Yes, I was becoming
that
girl. But they were so comfy! I’d earned
comfy
by stuffing myself into that ridiculous outfit in the first place.

Instead of Spandex, dark skinny jeans appeared. Instead of a loose t-shirt, out came a red silk blouse. Instead of tennis shoes, came heels. Granted, they were shorter than the ones hurting my arch now, but I pouted anyway.

Morgan’s cell rang and she stepped outside, holding up a finger to tell me she’d be right back. Meh. Her work here was done. I could handle everything but the corset.

Changing quickly, I packed my costume into the duffle bag and crossed the room. When my hand found the doorknob, the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I felt like I was being watched. No one else was in the room, so I knew that wasn’t possible. I was being ridiculous. One credit card charge and I was beginning to let
him
win again.
Stupid, Brooklyn. Stupid.
Besides, my black purse was on my shoulder and it held Pinky. Pinky would keep me safe.

Turning the knob, I sucked in a breath and then screamed—until I saw who it was. Archer was in the hallway. Actually, he was in the doorway looking like he was about to knock, his eyes wide with fear. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just wanted to talk to you. It’s important.”

“Yeah. Sure.” I pressed my palm against my chest, but my heart tried to beat it away. Stepping back, I let him in and he eased the door shut behind him.

Archer raked his hands through his hair. “You’re not going to like this, but I was following orders.”

“Orders?”

“It’s not a coincidence that I’m in Swift Rapids. I’m not from Ohio and I’m not on vacation.”

My throat swelled. I couldn’t speak. Distance. I put distance between him and me. But he stepped forward.

“It’s not? You’re…not?”

“No. I work for Mr. Sinclare. He paid me to make sure Morgan and you were okay, and I’ve been working on locating the stalker and bringing him to justice.”

He took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to mislead you. Mr. Sinclare told me not to disclose these facts to you, but I’ve found evidence that you may be in danger. I need you to know that I’m here to protect you and I need to keep you safe. Right now.” He stepped forward again. “Right now, you’re not safe. There was a charge on your credit card this week and it seems that your account has been hacked. You received a call from the bank this evening, but I don’t know if you’ve seen it yet.”

I shook my head. I hadn’t seen it. Easing the duffel off my shoulder, I let it hit the ground with a loud thud and then I pulled the cell out of my purse. Nothing. Nothing was there.

“They don’t have your new phone number. They called your old one. We’ve been monitoring it for you.”

“So he’s coming?”

Archer nodded and quietly added, “If he’s not already here.”

Sounds became muffled and suddenly I was hot but cold. Black dots swarmed my vision and buzzed around, filling the colorful spaces.

A loud bang.

“What happened?” Colt was here. I was safe.

“She blacked out,” Archer, who was not my friend, but my protector said.

Heavenly cold on my neck. Morgan’s voice. Colt’s hand on my neck.

His voice. “What the hell did you do to her?”

“Nothing,” Archer insisted. “I just told her that I’m working for Mr. Sinclare.”

“You’re
what
?” Morgan shrieked. I blinked and color and shapes became clearer. “What’s your name?”

“I was truthful about my name, but your father forbade me to tell you I was working for him until now.”

Colt helped me sit up. “What changed?” he asked.

Archer frowned. “We believe the man who is stalking her has zeroed in on her location.”

“I’m calling my father, Shane, and Riley in that freaking order!” Morgan marched out of the room.

With a look that even scared me, Colt stared at Archer. “You’d better be
exactly
who you say you are.”

I didn’t miss the way Archer stared at me. “I am exactly who I say. I’ve been sent to protect her.”