Seduction in Session (4 page)

“I think the world of him, too. He’s really the smartest guy I’ve met in a long time. So emotionally intelligent. Um, maybe we should get that drink.” She straightened her shoulders again. Mentally, Connor added that gesture as another one of her tells.

Life was a lot like a poker game. A smart man didn’t play his cards. Instead, he played the players. Lara Armstrong would be a horrible card player. She telegraphed everything she was feeling, held nothing back. Oh, she probably thought she was good at hiding her emotions. Most people did. And most people were wrong. That little shoulder shake told him she was doing something she thought unpleasant for the sake of the overall good.

If she thought for a second that he was letting her slip out of his carefully laid trap, she was so wrong. He was close to figuring out her part in this mystery. Through her, he would locate Deep Throat and the mysterious Natalia. He needed to find her, talk to her, convince her not to talk to the press.

He would protect Zack one way or another.

“You don’t mind?” He opened the door again.

Her chin came up. “Not at all. It looks lovely.”

He had to smile as she strode through the door because it looked skanky, but he could see she was going to pretend this dark bar was perfectly respectable. She held her head high as she moved past him.

Then he got his first view of her backside.

Lush. Round. Perfect. Maybe this job wouldn’t be so bad after all. His palms itched to cup that sweet ass and force her flush against his body. He would bet any sex she’d had was polite and deadly dull.
Intellectual.
There, dear, I’ve had my requisite physical release. Now you may have yours, then we’ll take tea.

Connor held in a chuckle. He would bet she’d never had a man hold her down and eat her pussy until she screamed, begged, and pleaded for him to give her his cock.

Damn. He was getting hard. He moved into the darkness where he hoped she wouldn’t notice he was suddenly sporting some serious wood.

The corner of the bar he led them to was surprisingly quiet, with the only illumination coming from neon signs and televisions showing every sport known to man. Lara looked around and seemed to select a table based on its cleanliness. She still opened that gigantic bag of hers and pulled out what looked like a set of hand wipes and gave the table and her chair a scrub. She looked up at him, offering one.

“I’m good.” So she was a clean freak, too. He’d been to the world’s worst places and likely exposed to just about every horrific disease he could think of. He could handle a little bar dust. He planted his duffel, and the waitress joined them.

She was dressed in the sexy version of a ref’s uniform. He ordered whatever was on draft and Lara actually asked about the wine.

“Red or white.”

“Sometimes the tannins in red upset my stomach, so bring me the white menu. Thank you so much.” She gave the waitress a smile.

The waitress shook her head and walked away.

“You know there’s only one white, right? She’s not bringing a menu.” He frowned. “I should have known. This isn’t your type of place, is it?”

“Oh, no. I come here all the time. Absolutely. I love it. Sports. They’re great. And I was joking about the menu. How was your mom?”

His mother was a craven bitch. “She’s getting along. She’s made friends. That’s good.”

“That’s great. Niall told me you were in the Army.”

“Navy,” he corrected. If she looked into his background, she would discover he’d been honorably discharged after fifteen years. He’d served under one Captain Daxton Spencer, who’d written Connor a stellar recommendation. “I was planning a career, but then my mother got sick and I had to come home to take care of the family business. I put all the savings I had into it, but unfortunately, our store still went under. You know how it is. Mom-and-pop stores can’t compete.”

A fire lit in her eyes. She’d written several articles about the demise of Main Street America so he’d planned his backstory accordingly. “No, they can’t. Big-box stores come in and undercut everyone else until they’re the only game in town. What’s going to happen when there’s no more competition? Monopoly. That’s what.” She stopped. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you would rather talk about something else.”

The waitress returned, placing a mug in front of him and a wineglass in front of her. It wasn’t exactly white, more of a blush color. She sighed and picked it up anyway, likely looking to make sure the glass was clean.

“Let’s talk about the job,” he suggested.

Even in the low light, he could see her bite her bottom lip as though trying to find a way out of this. “Yes, I’m afraid there’s been a mistake. You see, Niall acted very quickly and he really didn’t talk to me about this job. He just told me he was sending you out here.”

“He acted so quickly because he cares and he wants you safe.” The beer was passable, but then he wasn’t a snob.

She nearly spit out her first taste of the wine. She somehow managed to swallow it, but moved the glass out of reach. “I am safe. This is really all a big mistake. I got a silly note and I overreacted.”

“I don’t know about that. Given the website you run, any number of individuals could want to hurt you. And I understood it wasn’t a note. It was an e-mail and it was sent to your personal address. I don’t think that’s silly. It’s serious.”

Her eyes had widened, giving her an even more fey-like appearance. “You know about the site?”

“Of course. Niall trusts me. I have to know everything or I can’t effectively protect you.” He enjoyed watching her sweat.

“I didn’t realize he would tell you that. It’s supposed to be a secret, for obvious reasons.”

As much as he loved making her squirm, he needed her comfortable for the moment. “Niall made me sign a confidentiality agreement. He said it was the same one your friends sign. You don’t have to worry that I’ll say anything. But someone knows or they wouldn’t have sent you that message.”

She sat back in her chair. “The e-mail doesn’t actually say anything at all about the website. It’s very vague, which is why I’ve changed my mind. I’m sure there’s nothing to fear. The truth is, I don’t need any upheavals in my life right now. I’m sure if I ignore it, this guy will go away. He’s very likely another journalist looking for a story. You know who my father is, right?”

Senator Armstrong. He was a fairly staunch supporter of Zack’s, who would likely recognize Connor’s legal name but the senator couldn’t possibly know what the hell he looked like now. The last time he’d had his photo taken was for his senior yearbook and he’d changed much since then. He was more muscular than he’d been as a teenager. His nose had been broken three times. He had a few scars and always wore his hair in a military buzz. He could meet any of Lara’s friends and family without them recognizing him.

“Of course.” He nodded. “Niall told me everything. You have a good relationship with him, right? Despite the fact that you’re on two different sides of the fence politically?”

“My dad is a good man. He just has this thing about taxes and small government. It doesn’t mean we don’t love each other. My point is that there are always reporters out there hoping to get something on my dad. That’s probably what this is. We have no idea what he’s
referring to. He never actually mentions the website or my work. More than likely he’s fishing and he hopes I’ll freak out and do exactly what I’m doing. So I really think you coming out here was a mistake. There’s no job to do.”

“I wish you’d told me that before I traveled all the way from California.” Time to lay on the guilt. Then he shook his head as though he wished he hadn’t said anything. He gave her a slight smile. “Not an issue. I’m sure I’ll find work out here somewhere.”

“You’re not going back to California?”

“No return ticket, sweetheart.”

She softened immediately, leaning toward him as though she could understand for one second what it meant to be in a strange city with no resources. “I’ll buy you one. It’s my fault you’re here.”

That would salve her conscience? No way. He would need to figure something else out. Possibly Niall could convince her, but only if Connor stayed in D.C. He owned a lovely home in Langley that he wouldn’t be visiting because he needed to appear cash-strapped. It was a no-name motel for him. He threw some cash on the table and stood.

“No, thank you, Ms. Armstrong. I don’t accept charity. I’ll be fine. I’ve got a couple of bucks. I’ll find a place to stay. I wish you well.”

As he started toward the door, he felt her hand on his arm. “Connor?”

He turned, cocking an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“I really wish you would let me send you home.”

He bet she did. “It’s not an issue. You don’t need my services so I’m no longer your problem. If you change your mind, contact Niall. He’ll know where I’m staying.”

Maybe he should go for broke and hit a homeless shelter. Was that overkill? He stepped outside, knowing damn well she’d be hard on his heels. He needed a finishing touch. Ah, there it was. Perfectly placed, as though someone had known he would need it.
Thank you, city planners.
He walked a few steps to the bus stop and dropped down on the bench under the sign denoting it as a bus stop.

Sure enough, she practically ran out of the bar, all that hair flying behind her. Damn, but he was fascinated by her hair. It looked ridiculously soft and he wondered if she would gasp a little when he pulled it. Not too much. Just enough to sensitize her scalp, to let her know he could make every single inch of her bend to his will.

And there went his dick again. Unruly thing and yet it was kind of nice to know the fucker still worked. More than a few months had culminated into what could only be called a dry spell. He hadn’t picked up a woman like he usually did when he needed to burn off stress. It had been even longer since he’d spent more than one night with any woman, but if this worked the way he thought it should, he would be with Lara for a few weeks. He could be in her bed in a couple of days, if her interest level was any indication. Every report he had on her stated she practically lived like a nun. She hadn’t had a single serious boyfriend since she’d broken it off with her lawyer fiancé. She’d thrown herself into work. All it would likely take was showing her a bit of interest and a little affection.

He didn’t even want to try this without seducing her, Connor suddenly realized. He wanted her.

He really was a bastard.

She stopped at the edge of the street. 2nd Street NE was crowded at this time of day. Most of D.C. was crowded at any time of day. She looked up and down the street, obviously trying to find him.

She breathed a long sigh of relief when her eyes lit on him. “I thought I’d lost you.”

You couldn’t lose me if you tried, little girl.
“I’m just waiting on the bus.”

“Oh.” A slow smile spread across her face. She sat on the bench beside him. “I take the bus, too. Though I prefer the Metro. It’s faster.”

“You don’t have a car?” He was a little surprised. Given her upbringing, he’d half expected she had a driver on call.

Her head shook as she settled her bag on her lap. “I have a hybrid, but I don’t like to use it in the city. There’s no reason to. Public transit
is faster and better for the environment. And you meet the most interesting people on the subway.”

Yes, and also got to see a lot of public urination. Actually, he didn’t like the idea of her being alone on the subway at night. It would be a little like a cupcake running around a group of toddlers, only she’d look tempting in the midst of thugs with rape and murder on their minds. “You shouldn’t use the Metro late at night.”

She waved him off. “It’s fine. I have a rape whistle.”

“You need a gun.”

“I don’t believe in guns.”

Why wasn’t he surprised? He was sure she thought that if the government took guns away from good people, everyone would be safe. “Here’s the bad news, sweetheart. They believe in you. You don’t have to believe in a gun to get killed by one.”

She frowned. “Do you have a gun?”

“Of course.”

“How did you get it on the train?”

Because he had paperwork that showed he was allowed to carry anywhere. It came with the whole high-level Agency gig, but he couldn’t tell her that. “I have a license to carry concealed.”

He had three guns within reaching distance, along with a couple of knives. He was practically a walking armory. But she didn’t need to know that, either.

“Wow. I don’t have any guns. I’m surprised Niall would be all right with them.”

This was a delicate subject, but he’d already thought about it. In fact, he’d gone over just about every scenario possible. “Niall understands that sometimes you have to protect the things that are precious to you. If someone is trying to hurt you, he would want me to use everything in my power to make certain you were safe.”

She sighed and turned to face him. “Maybe you could take a look at the message I received. What could it hurt for you to just stop by my place and take a look? I’m not very security conscious.”

He was in.

Connor put out a hand. “You’ve got a deal.”

In the distance, he heard the sound of a motorcycle engine revving. Lara began to talk about where she lived and how long it would take them to get there at this time of day. She’d taken the Metro, but was more than happy to get on the bus if he preferred.

Connor turned and watched as some asshole on a crotch rocket started weaving his way in and out of traffic. It was an annoying little bug flying around the stopped cars.

“I guess we could find you a hotel close to my place,” Lara said.

Was she high? “Ms. Armstrong, if I work for you as a bodyguard, I need to stay with you.”

Someone honked as the motorcycle cut them off, making it across the intersection before the light changed. Lara completely ignored the little drama playing out on the street. “But I only have one bedroom.”

And he intended to be sharing that bed with her damn quick. “Hey, your couch is probably better than the room at the Y I would likely be at. Look, even if you decide you don’t need me, at least you can sleep well tonight knowing I won’t let anything or anyone come through your door.”