Seduction in Session (11 page)

Would that be so bad? He walked out of the bedroom, warring with a conscience he’d felt certain had gone numb long ago.

Damn it, he was of two minds. Well, he was of one mind and one dick. On one hand, fucking Lara would likely buy him an enormous amount of her loyalty. While he’d lain there watching her, he’d discarded the idea that she could be a con artist pretending sweetness and innocence. She wasn’t underhanded enough to pull that off. She had neither the street smarts nor the experience. Lara Armstrong was exactly what she seemed. She was naive enough to believe she could save the world. Hell, he’d seen her circle of friends. She operated with conviction and a strong core of loyalty, even when the person she was loyal to didn’t deserve it.

He wanted her loyalty for himself. All of it. Connor couldn’t exactly explain why. But like a greedy kid with a toy, he wanted to come first with her. The only way he could do that was to seduce her. Sex would mean something to her. Hell, a flirtation on the Internet with a fictitious guy had meant something to her. What would a real man in her bed, plying her body with pleasure, mean?

His dick was all about that plan.

And then he would picture her crying again. After this mission, he
wouldn’t stay with her. He would move on to the next job and never look back. He couldn’t explain and he wouldn’t call her afterward. He would simply be gone. How used would she feel then? At least as Niall he hadn’t actually fucked her. A mind fuck, yes, but somehow it seemed kinder than actually taking her when he knew how invested she probably was before she’d go to bed with a man.

“I don’t think so, sweetie.” Lara’s words were soft over the sounds of a hipster caterwauling about his lost dick or whatever.

She’d better be talking to the damn dog.

“It’s the way he moves,” a masculine voice said back. “I was trained the same way. He watches everything.”

“Well, he was in the Navy. I suspect they train their sailors, too. And given his chosen profession, I’m thrilled he’s very observant. Otherwise, I would likely be dead. I didn’t notice that man on the motorcycle at all. I was too busy talking to Connor.”

Freddy. He caught sight of the man’s profile. He was likely in his early thirties. Red hair. Pale face. The guy had little tics that gave Connor pause.

“Yeah. But I find it interesting that no one tried to hurt you until he came into your life. Don’t you?” He spoke in a staccato rhythm, the words like rapid fire from a machine gun, and then he would halt on a dime as though he needed to reload. “There are no coincidences in life. None. The timing is too perfect. You get all those leads and he shows up? I smell a rat. We should look into—”

The man turned and spied Connor over the bar that separated the kitchen from the living/dining area.

Connor really wished Freddy had finished that sentence. What did the guy want to look into? And how bad did Freddy think he was? It was obvious Lara’s oddball pal had cast him in the role of the villain.

“Morning.” He tipped his head, staring Freddy down.

Lincoln barked and raced out of the kitchen toward Connor, his tail wagging.

Freddy frowned, his stare landing anywhere but on Connor. “I’ll go. Talk to you later, Lara. Call me if you need me.”

He shuffled out, giving Connor a very wide berth. Lara followed behind, but she didn’t hug the man. She didn’t touch him at all, which was odd behavior for her. He noticed the previous night that she often touched her friends. Each one got a hug as they left—except Freddy.

She would never withhold affection.

“He doesn’t like being touched, does he?”

She turned after locking the door. “He can’t stand it.”

Unlike the rest of her friends, Freddy was clean-shaven, his hair cut in a very precise military buzz. The khakis he’d worn had a perfect crease to them, as though the man got up and starched and ironed his casual clothes. There were a couple of kinds of people who might do that. Clean freaks by nature. People suffering from OCD. Neither of those fit. Connor came to the obvious conclusion.

“He was military, wasn’t he? Was he taken prisoner at some point?” The military wouldn’t have accepted him with the tics, ergo the military had likely been the very place he’d gotten them. PTSD. It often came with an honorable discharge.

Lara nodded. “Yeah, how did you know that? He doesn’t like to talk about it.”

“I’m good at deduction. I can also deduce that he likes you a lot, and he can’t stand me.” He’d watched Freddy all evening. Though Freddy didn’t like to meet anyone’s eyes, he damn sure got an eyeful. He watched Lara constantly when she wasn’t looking. He practically worshipped her with his stare.

Connor found that annoying.

She walked back into the kitchen and started pulling breakfast together. Connor noted she’d already set out two places at her little four top. “I wouldn’t take it too poorly. Freddy doesn’t like a lot of people. He’s suspicious of everyone. You two have that in common. Your coffee’s on the table.”

He would have to look into Freddy’s background. “Getting hauled into an enemy prison camp can certainly make you that way. Iraq or Afghanistan?”

It could also make a person obsessive if they already had that bent. Trauma like that could amplify all sorts of problems.

She returned with a plate of waffles. A big bowl of fruit and a jug of organic maple syrup sat waiting. Despite his misgivings about her diet, his stomach rumbled.

“Afghanistan. He was in the Korengal Valley.”

Where some of the nastiest fighting had taken place. Connor had been in and out of there, a shadow collecting information and disseminating it where needed before melting away again. “I guess Army guys never like us sailors.”

She sat down with a little sigh. “Oh, he thinks that’s all a cover and that you’re really a CIA agent sent in to steal my secrets. Crazy, huh? So this is a blueberry waffle. Instead of eggs, I used applesauce as a binder. I think it makes them very moist.”

She might have said something else about making the applesauce herself, but Connor was thinking about how he was going to have to shut Freddy up. She didn’t believe him. That was obvious—and helpful. Sometimes, it was better to hide in plain sight.

He smiled her way, hoping it was reassuring and not the look of a man who was hungry for way more than waffles. “They look great, but we need to talk about protocol.”

She stabbed a waffle and dragged it to her plate, her nose wrinkling sweetly. “I don’t like that word. It sounds like discipline and rules.”

He would love to give her a little discipline. He could smack that pretty ass until it was a nice shade of pink and then maybe she would start listening to him. That image didn’t do his cock a bit of good. “Rules are important. And the first rule is you don’t open your door anymore. I open it.”

“I looked through the keyhole. I knew who it was,” she argued.

He took two waffles and hoped she only wanted a couple since she’d
only prepared six. He could easily eat four by himself—and still want more. She obviously wasn’t used to cooking for a man with an appetite. Of course, she also wasn’t used to cooking for a carnivore, so they had problems beyond her not making enough carbs.

“I don’t care who it is, Lara. Even if you trust them with your life, they could still be carrying a gun or have one pointed at them. Had you thought of that? The easiest way to get to you is to bring someone you care about into the danger.”

She went still and took a deep breath. It was finally hitting her that they weren’t playing some game. “Should my dad do anything? He doesn’t have a security detail. He’s never seen the need for it.”

“I already discussed this with your father. He’s interviewing bodyguards today. He’s going to hire two I recommended so he has someone with him twenty-four seven until we clear up this threat. He’s hiring a detail for your mother as well. I talked him out of bringing her home. I think she’s safer on the West Coast for now.”

“Why is someone doing this?” Her question came out on a sad sigh.

“You know why.”

“I’m careful with the website, Connor. Almost all of my tips come through secure lines.”

“No line is ever totally secure.”

“You don’t understand who my informants are. They’re not hackers. They’re not savvy. They tend to be people close to the subject. I talk to a lot of angry mistresses and pissed-off wives. I get tips from housekeepers who didn’t feel like their Christmas bonus was enough so they turn in their employer for taking bribes. You would be shocked at what staff hears.”

Because for the superrich, staff was a little like background noise. Even in Dax’s home, the maids had been quiet mice scurrying in and out.

He had to wonder if they’d known how depressed Admiral Spencer had been. Had they been watchful but remained silent until the day Dax’s father had pulled his own trigger?

Somehow seeing the closeness the senator and Lara shared made him think about Hal Spencer and how the man had played ball in the backyard with his son even when he and Dax had been teens. The first time Connor had gone home with Dax during a school break, the admiral had bought Connor a glove and pulled him in, too.

It still ached that the man had eaten a bullet.

He needed to get the fuck out of here. Somehow, someway, Lara brought out the emotional shit he thought he’d locked away long ago. He didn’t like the muck she dredged up. Fuck. He didn’t like feeling anything at all. And he kind of resented her for it. “Do you think this stalker wants you on a sexual level?”

She flushed immediately. “No. Why would he try to kill me if he wants me?”

“Did you tease some man, then refuse to follow through? You seem to have Freddy on a leash. It’s barely after seven in the morning and he’s already up here trying to save you from me. There were a couple of those young guys last night whose gazes lingered. And don’t forget Tom. Do you dangle the promise of sex in front of him to keep him in line?”

“That’s horrible. I’m not that woman.” She scowled at him. “Why would you say that?”

He shrugged. “I’m merely trying to investigate all the possibilities. You said you were careful with the website so I have to look into your private life. Is your friend Kiki a jealous woman?”

“Why would she be jealous of me?”

“Because you have all those men around you.”

“They’re just friends. Besides, Kiki has no trouble getting men of her own. Seriously, I don’t date. I thought I had something going with Niall, but you saw how that turned out.” She sighed. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“You don’t have that option, princess.” He was getting to her. Like any fruitful interrogation, the best way for him to get inside her head was to rattle her. Not surprisingly, she seemed easy to shake up.

“I don’t like it when you call me that.”

“Ah, you’re one of those women who can’t stand endearments. You think they demean you? Take away your feminine power? Maybe you would you prefer Ms. Armstrong so you can feel better about yourself.”

Her fork clattered to her plate. “No, I don’t like it when you call me that because I don’t think you mean it as an endearment. It sounds like your snide way of calling me spoiled, and it hurts.”

His guilt rose to the surface again. No one in his world ever admitted that someone else had hurt them, but Lara Armstrong, with her fuck-me, love-me, protect-me eyes just put it right out there. And her tearful voice made him feel like shit. What the hell was wrong with him?

“You’re misunderstanding me. Have you had issues with Kiki in the past?”

She looked down at her plate. She’d eaten maybe a bite. “She wasn’t happy with the way I left Tom. She thought I should have let him down sooner.”

Connor had finished off his waffles and reached for another. Interrogations always made him hungry and these were good. “So she liked Tom and was jealous of your relationship with him.”

“No,” she replied with a shake of her head. “She’d been telling me for months she thought it wouldn’t work and I put off ending it. She was angry because she thought I was being a coward and hurting a lot of people. She was right. Why do you put the worst spin on everything I tell you?”

It was time to get to the heart of the matter. “Because I’m a realist. So according to you, everything is fine in your world. Your informants are all idiots who couldn’t hack a system if they tried, and no one would ever want to hurt you because you’re beloved by all. So the question becomes are you so sweet and beautiful that the world simply can’t handle your awesomeness? Maybe someone is so jealous of how amazing you are that they can’t allow you to live. What are you and Freddy investigating?”

“The president.” She stopped and sat for a moment as though really surprised she’d answered him.

It was an old trick. Speak rapidly. Ask a few emotionally packed questions but leave no time for the subject to reply. Then ask the whopper. The tactic threw many off balance and they simply answered the first moment he gave them an opening. And they usually blurted the truth.

So she was after Zack. He should have known that. In her world, Zack would be the ultimate prey. How much did she want Zack’s head on her mantel? She might not eat meat, but in his book that made her a predator.

“So you don’t approve of the president. Why are you investigating him?”

She shrugged and went back to her waffle. “He’s the president. I run a political blog. I’m always investigating him.”

“Political blog? Isn’t that overstating it a little? You run one of the most salacious gossip sites on the Internet. What are you looking into? The size of his dick again?”

She pushed away from the table. All of her joy had fled and the shadows from the night before were back. “Is Connor your first or last name?”

“Why?” He shouldn’t engage her. He knew damn well he should press on with his questions. Never let the subject get the upper hand, but the question was out of his mouth before he could stop it.

“Because I’d like to use your last name when we talk. It puts more distance between us.” She was obviously trying to be cool, professional. The sheen of tears in her eyes and the way her hands trembled gave her away.