“Sir,” I began, measuring my words carefully. “I’m… not clear on why you need me for this. I’m a first-year detective. I’m sure there are more appropriate choices…”

“Not on this one,” he quickly answered, folding his hands on his desk. “This is a big deal. Nathan Hale’s testimony is going to put away a sex trafficker, murderer, and illegal arms dealer. We’re talking about unraveling the whole organization. With Wallace gone, the rest of the Paddies will crumble. That’s a feat even the FBI hasn’t been able to accomplish. It’ll look good for the department...”

There was an implication there, a subtle reminder that cops who did things to bolster the department’s reputation were always rewarded. Doing this might mean a chance at respect, but could I respect myself for dancing to this man’s tune by shacking up with some yuppie billionaire and calling myself Candy?

But he was right about the Paddies—the gang Wallace headed up with ties to the Irish mob. They had to go, and if this would oust them from the city once and for all, maybe it really was a small sacrifice.

“I get the point, sir. But I don’t know if it’ll be that easy. One of those men who came to Hale’s mansion—he called himself Francis O’Rourke—there was something about him. An air of authority? I think he might have been higher up the food chain than the others. Even with Wallace out of the picture, the Paddies might be able to hold their ground if that man’s been groomed to take over.”

Captain Pierce nodded grimly. “I’ll see if the FBI is willing to let us in on who some of the other major players are. In the meantime, get your things in order and meet me back here in an hour. I want you two moved into the Peachtree Overlook by this evening. The sooner, the better,” he added.

I shook my head. “I still don’t understand why you’ve chosen me, sir.”

The captain sighed. He looked weary. “Do you really want to know?”

I nodded. “Yes, sir. Absolutely.”

I’d been hoping for some speech where Captain Pierce admitted how much the department needed me, how I was an invaluable member of the force, and how handing me this responsibility was just the first step in showing the rest of the boys how capable I really was.

Instead, Captain Pierce spread his hands helplessly. “Mr. Hale wouldn’t agree to our terms any other way. He requested you, personally.”

My heart sunk. Once again, I was Nathan’s pawn and plaything, a bargaining chip to ensure he would get what he wanted. I wasn’t a valued member of the team—I was a sacrificial lamb.

I wanted to rage at the captain, and at Nathan, too. I wanted to tell them both in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t there for their entertainment, that I was a cop who had earned her stripes and who deserved better than to play babysitter to an entitled billionaire.

But I didn’t say anything. Instead I let the heat rise in my cheeks, my pulse pound in my ears, and my hands shake behind my back as I held in every ounce of anger surging through me.

For the greater good, I told myself. Once you do this, everyone will look at you differently. You’ll be a hero, Sandra. It all sounded like lies.

“Detective,” the captain said, lowering his voice. “You can say ‘no.’_”

For a moment, I let my rage get the better of me. “Can I, sir?”

Captain Pierce nodded. “Yes. You can. Mr. Hale strikes me as the type of man who’s used to getting what he wants. He’s playing a game here, and he’s not afraid to make people uncomfortable or unhappy to get his way. We both know he’s not going back to his house after what happened today, whether you agree to this or not. If this is going to be a problem for you, detective, then I wouldn’t hold it against you if you said ‘no.’_”

That gave me pause. I lowered my eyes, considering the Captain’s offer. If he was right, the absolutely best case scenario was that it wouldn’t reflect poorly on me. I’d go back to my job exactly how I left it, Nathan would become someone else’s problem, and I could refocus on other parts of my life that mattered much more than some billionaire’s welfare.

But an image flashed in my head, or rather a series of them: Nathan’s impossibly green eyes; his lazy, lopsided grin; the way he’d stepped in at the last second and potentially saved me from a thug with a gas can and biceps that could have snapped my spine like a twig.

No, that wasn’t right—there was no “potentially” about it. If Nathan hadn’t shown up at that moment, that guy was going to put my training to the test. Even if I took him down, one of his men was almost certainly going to kill me and set the whole place on fire, maybe not even in that order.

The sad fact of the matter was that I owed him one. I tried not to think about how, strangely, I didn’t really mind. A small part of me was looking forward to a few days shacked up with Nathaniel Hale. I had to take a moment to push that thought straight out. This was all a game for Mr. Hale, and if I didn’t assert myself all I’d ever be is the girl he bent over his desk whenever he wanted to. That chapter of my life was over now. I wanted to stay safe inside my web of lies where Nathan’s compelling stare couldn’t reach me.

Right, so I owed him one. We’d go with that.

“No,” I told Captain Pierce. “I mean—yes. I’ll do it. I’ll be back in an hour.”

Captain Pierce looked both surprised and almost impressed. “Fair enough, detective. Pack only what you need.”

I nodded, then stepped out of his office and into the hall. My stomach was churning with the implications of what I’d just done—upended my entire life for a man who probably wouldn’t even appreciate it—when I nearly ran face-first into Nathan’s warm, hard body.

“Jesus!” I yelped, clutching at the collar of my blouse as though it would help the breath return to my lungs. “You scared the hell out of me.”

Nathan looked down at me, grinning from ear to ear. “Sorry about that, detective. It’s probably the shoes.” He lifted a foot, showing me the soles. “My company has been importing them from Japan where this guy, this designer, Shinji Watanabe, started a brand new line of samurai-inspired fashion. His footwear collection is largely based off traditional Japanese designs, and this is his take on the jika-tabi, soft-soled shoes that give you tactile connection with the ground…. and… uh…”

I stared at him. Not a single iota of me cared one bit about his fancy goddamn ninja shoes. Two seconds with this guy and I was already ready to shove one of them down his throat.

He must have seen the look on my face, because he quickly summed up:

“Anyway, they don’t make much sound. So that’s probably why you didn’t hear me.”

“Well, I imagine I’ll be hearing a lot of you very soon, not to mention seeing,” I said, moving past him. He fell into step beside me. “Your demands have been met. I’ll be your handler for the next seven days.”

“I thought it’d be for the best,” Nathan explained, handing me a Starbucks cup with my name across it. “You know, we made a pretty good team back there. And besides, it’ll look good for you—the woman who took down the Irish mafia and convinced billionaire Nathan Hale to testify,” he added, spelling out the headline with his free hand while using an overblown radio-style voice. “And besides… I wasn’t really sure who else I could trust.”

I sniffed the contents of the cup through the little opening in the lid. Whatever it was smelled sweet. I took a tentative sip and nearly melted. Mocha anything was my jam. How the hell did he know?

“That’s only if it all goes as planned,” I reminded him, quickly taking the steps down to the lobby. “Hopefully there won’t be too much more excitement. But I gotta ask,” I whirled to face him once I hit the bottom, “d

id you come up with our cover story, too?”

Nathan paused two steps above me, clutching his own Starbucks cup to his chest like a shield, like it would protect him from my question, and possibly from me. He hadn’t stopped grinning since he saw me come out of Captain Pierce’s office, but I watched the corners of his mouth curl even more mischievously.

“No,” he said. “Scout’s honor—I would’ve never picked a name like Candy. I think somebody thought he was being funny.”

I felt my own lips betray me, pulling into a faint smile. “And the other thing? I’m supposed to play house as your girlfriend?”

He shrugged and took a long drink from his cup. “That might have been my idea,” he said calmly. “Besides, you said it yourself, I don’t have a girlfriend right now. I thought I’d treat myself.”

Tags: Nikki Wild Erotic
Source: readsnovelonline.net