Seduction in Session Page 3

  Lara Armstrong probably never went into bars. Or if she did, she only frequented hipster bars where the craft beer and red wine flowed like a river and no one ordered Scotch because it might get in the way of their deep political discussions.

  Of course, he could be wrong about her. She also ran one of the most infamous tabloids D.C. had ever seen. She qualified it by saying she only ran the nasty stuff so people would maybe pay attention to her op-ed pieces on saving dolphins, but he wondered. He was going to scratch under her carefully built exterior, and he knew what he would find. She would be everything he expected—a naive, vain little rich girl who didn’t know a damn thing about the real world.

  Hell, she’d fallen for a cipher. Niall Smith, brave warrior for the California environment. Connor had created the online persona when he’d discovered Lara Armstrong ran Capitol Scandals. She, along with her site, were ass deep in the game he’d been playing for weeks—a game that had already cost one of his best friends in the world his life. Maddox Crawford had died to cover someone’s secrets. Gabriel Bond and his fiancée, Everly, had almost died, too. Someone was weaving intricate threads of deception and half-truths in an attempt to throw him off, but Connor Sparks was like a bloodhound. Once he caught the scent of something, he never let go. If someone had brought Lara Armstrong into this chess match, Connor had no compunction about using her like the pawn she was, because he refused to lose any more friends.

  And he would not lose this game.

  His cell phone buzzed in his pocket. Since his intel on the girl indicated she was often late, Connor figured he still had a few minutes. He pulled the device free and glanced at the display.

  Dax.

  “Hey.” He never refused Dax’s calls. He could likely be in a fight to the death with a foreign operative and would stop in the middle to shoot the shit with Dax. Sometimes he was fairly certain Dax was the only thing in the world that kept him grounded. He loved his friends—Dax, Gabe, Mad, Roman, and Zack were the only people he gave a damn about.

  Except he kind of liked Everly. She was a good kid.

  “Hey, buddy, you make it to D.C.?” Dax’s jovial tone belied the reason Connor was here, but then that was just like Dax.

  He was careful with his wording in case she showed up and overheard any of his conversation. “I did. I’m starting the new job in a few minutes.”

  “Are you sure you don’t need backup? I’m off for another couple of weeks. I could be down there in a heartbeat. If someone’s really trying to kill this girl, you could use an extra pair of eyes.”

  “I don’t think that will be necessary.” He was certain the threat wasn’t real. He’d hacked her system and checked the security. He hadn’t found a trace of anything that shouldn’t be there. The “threatening letter” had been very vague. It was more than likely this was all a ploy to get her daddy’s attention and milk him for cash.

  Poor little rich girl.

  “Okay, but I’m ready to back you up. Hanging out here with Gabe and Everly is giving me a sweet tooth. Maybe I’ll go to a bar tonight and see if I still have some of the old magic.”

  Connor shook his head even though Dax couldn’t see him. “Absolutely not. Let me call in some hookers. You won’t wake up in Vegas married to one of them. I hope.”

  “Ha-ha. I only eloped once,” Dax insisted.

  But Connor knew what that “once” had cost him. “Yeah, I’m trying to avoid horrific divorce number two. Do you ever think about her?”

  Why was he getting so sentimental? Maybe he’d spent so much time pretending to be gentle Niall that he was actually growing a vagina. Or maybe it had been sitting next to a family of three on the way down here from New York. Young mom and dad with their infant. They’d been so careful with the tiny girl and with each other. He’d watched as they passed the baby between them.

  He wondered if he’d ever have anything so fragile. Not likely. He was far better at wet work.

  “I try not to think about it, but then I look at my bank account,” Dax replied with his usual dry wit.

  “I wasn’t talking about your ex-wife. I meant Holland.” The woman Dax actually loved. The one he’d lost.

  Dax was quiet for a moment. “All the time, man. Not a day goes by that I don’t regret what happened. Which is exactly why you should be careful with the Armstrong girl. I don’t think she’s what you think she is.”

  “Because you’ve spent time with her?” He knew the answer to that one.

  “No, obviously I haven’t, but I’m also a way better judge of character than you are.”

  “I seriously doubt that.”

  “Dude, you pretty much just shoot everyone.”

  “Everyone deserves it.” He turned slightly and caught sight of a brunette wearing hipster glasses and what looked like a vintage sweater staring out at him, her mouth slightly ajar. He couldn’t help the smile that curled his lips up slightly. Little Miss Vegan was staring at him like he was a juicy steak and she wanted a bite. So much for her unrequited love for tender Niall. His sad-sack persona would have to strum his guitar on the Internet forever because Lara Armstrong might say she was attracted to good boys, but it looked like a bad one could tempt her. “And our girl is here. It’s showtime. Is Everly still working on her end?”

  Recently, they’d discovered a trafficking ring operating under the auspices of a women’s charity. The International Women and Girls Education Foundation had been a front for the Russian mob. One of their big corporate sponsors had been Crawford Industries, run by their late friend Maddox Crawford. As far as Connor could tell, once Mad had found the connection, they’d killed him for it.

  They’d also realized that one of the women who had been trafficked had worked as Zachary Hayes’s childhood nanny. The president of the United States had most likely been raised by a sex slave, and according to their lone lead, the only person who might be able to find her was Lara Armstrong.

  He glanced back and she appeared to be arguing with her friend. The friend was much more his type. She was tall with lush breasts and looked like she knew what to do with a man. So why could he not take his eyes off the little intellectual fairy? That was what Lara reminded him of. A pretty little fairy with too-big blue eyes and bright thoughts and so much dark hair he wasn’t sure how she handled it.

  “Yes, Everly is trying to track Deep Throat.”

  He winced at that expression. Though he knew its historical context, it really did sound like a porn film. “Has she found anything?”

  “Yes, but you’re not going to like it.”

  He turned back because it looked like he was about to have some company. Lara had anchored her purse on her shoulder and seemed to be drawing her courage. He knew exactly what Dax was about to say. “He contacted Lara Armstrong.”

  “Yes. We believe he’s sent her three e-mails in the last week. In the most recent, he told her to move to their backup means of communication. I don’t know what that is.”

  So Deep Throat knew they were onto him. He would be looking for letters or faxes or perhaps a disposable cell phone. He needed to get into her condo, embed himself in her life. “I’ll figure it out. I need to go. I’ll call you if I need you, brother.”

  “See that you do.” The line disconnected just as the door swung open and his quarry made her appearance.

  Vintage sweater, check. Yellow dress, check. Purse that looked like she could shoulder the cares of the world inside, check. He’d expected her to look a little like the greenie version of Snow White. He hadn’t expected her breasts to be quite so round. They didn’t look that hot in her pictures. She always wore one of those damn sweaters that hid her body. Now he wanted to get a look at her ass to see if it matched her chest.

  Instead, he raised a brow, looked her over, and used his deepest voice on her. “Miss Armstrong? You’re five minutes late.”

  Her mouth opened, then it closed again. She had to crane her neck to meet his gaze when they were this close. A gentleman would have moved back
and given her some space.

  Connor Sparks wasn’t a gentleman.

  “Mr. Connor?” She squared her shoulders as though she was preparing for battle.

  “Just Connor.” He wasn’t about to give her an inch.

  “Is that your first name or your last name?” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I wasn’t actually late. I was waiting inside so I wouldn’t be late.”

  “Our meeting was out here.”

  “I assumed we would go in the shop.”

  “You assumed wrong.” He’d meant to sit down with her in the coffee shop, but now it seemed like a better idea to keep her off-kilter. She would be comfortable in the coffee shop. It was her kind of place. She would be uncomfortable in a dark bar, and he saw just what he wanted across the street. “I was on a three-hour train ride with screaming children. I need a beer. Let’s go.”

  He started across the street toward a bar with no windows. Dank. Skanky. Perfect. He didn’t look back, but knew from the sound of kitten heels clacking on the pavement that she was following as fast as her petite legs could take her.

  “Connor, we should talk,” she said as she tried valiantly to keep up.

  He gripped his bag and was gentleman enough to open the door for her. Hard rock throbbed from inside the joint. It looked dark, like the kind of place where secret meetings happened or where D.C.’s citizens went to drink when they didn’t want anyone they gave a damn about to know. It was definitely the kind of place where a fairy would need an escort.

  His world.

  “We can talk while I grab a beer.”

  She stared at the door like it might be an opening to hell. “I think we can have a very quick talk out here.”

  So she intended to back out of their arrangement. Connor couldn’t allow that to happen. He let the door close and looked down at her. What tack to take? He played out a few strategies in his mind but quickly settled on guilt. Anyone who gave as much of a damn about dolphins as Lara must have a well-developed sense of guilt. He could definitely use that.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m being selfish. I’m just really tired after that long trip. I should have taken the flight straight to D.C. from L.A., but I wanted to see my mother. She’s in a home in the Bronx and I rarely have the money to get back there, you know what I mean? I didn’t mean to inconvenience you.”

  Just like that, those blue eyes went wide with sympathy. “Oh, you didn’t. Not at all.”

  His mother was likely fucking her way through some Southern Florida trailer park. The last time he’d seen her she’d had the temerity to ask him for money. He’d given her two hundred in cash and told her to never contact him again. Ah, the joys of family.

  “Niall said you were a really busy lady.” He grimaced like he knew he’d done wrong.

  The minute he said Niall’s name, she flushed. “No. I mean, I am busy, but I’m definitely not too busy for a friend of his.”

  “He really thinks a lot of you.”

  Another flush and he could tell she was feeling guilty about staring at him. What had she been thinking to get her to blush like that? He could play on that as well.

  “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 qui
ckly 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.”