Maya Banks - Sweet Temptation

Micah ignored Damon’s secretary and headed into Damon’s office. He gave one polite knock but didn’t wait for a response.

Damon didn’t bother to rise, though just as Micah had predicted, there was a glass filled with amber stuff waiting on the edge of the polished desk. Micah sat but didn’t reach for the drink.

Damon surveyed him calmly and waited. Micah wasn’t used to this uncertainty, to second-guessing his decisions. To the absolute knowledge that he’d royally fucked up.

“Christ,” Micah muttered. “I fucked up, Damon.”

Still, Damon waited, only responding with the lift of one eyebrow.

“I need any info you have on Angelina.”

“I think you know I can’t do that.”

“Let me rephrase. I don’t need personal information. I need to know where I can find her. It’s important. I don’t like the idea of her being in Houston alone, staying God knows where. I let her walk out of my apartment last night, and now I don’t know where to find her. I don’t know if she’s okay, if she needs anything.”

“She seemed well this morning when I saw her,” Damon said.

Micah surged forward. “Where did you see her?”

“She came to see me at The House early.”

“What the hell was she seeing you about?”

Damon just stared back, his expression unreadable.

Micah cursed again. “Okay, so you won’t tell me that. At least tell me where I can find her. Damn it, Damon, I’m worried about her. I just need to make sure she’s taken care of. I owe David that much.”

“Interesting that you feel you owe David but not Angelina herself.”

“Don’t fucking play psychologist with me, man. Pisses me off.”

“Only because I make a valid point,” Damon said in an amused tone.

“Look, she’s David’s little sister. Hannah mothered her.”

“And you?” Damon asked.

“She was David’s sister,” he said as if that explained all things. And didn’t it?

Damon chuckled. “In other words you never saw her, and now suddenly you do.”

“No, the hell I don’t see her,” he answered fiercely.

It was a stone-cold lie, and they both knew it. Micah closed his eyes and shook his head.

“How did she know, Damon? How the hell did she know that I’d respond to her bound and naked, begging for the kiss of the whip?”

“I’d say she knows a lot more about you than you do about her.”

“No shit,” he muttered. “Tell me where I can find her, Damon. You sure as hell wouldn’t let me get away with not telling you something where Serena is concerned.”

Damon scowled, and Micah knew he’d scored a hit.

“Hell,” Damon bit out.

“Tell me,” Micah persisted.

Damon sighed and opened his laptop. “I can only give you whatever she put on her application. Don’t ask for anything else. I won’t give it.”

Micah shrugged. As long as he found her, she could damn well tell him the rest.

After a few moments of clicking, Damon raised his head. “She’s staying at the Starlight Motel. No address given.”

“Never heard of it,” Micah said with a frown as he rose. “Thanks, though. I’ll call 411 to get the address on my way out.”

“Hey, Micah,” Damon said when Micah was almost to the door.

Micah paused and turned around.

“Take it easy. Don’t go in with both barrels blazing, okay?”

Micah gave a dry chuckle. “Yeah, I’ll try.”

Just when he thought he couldn’t get any more pissed off, Micah pulled into the parking lot of the Starlight Motel and stared in disgust at the run-down four-story building. He’d thought the directions were bogus when he entered the seedy, dangerous-looking area. Or at least he’d hoped they were.

He slammed the truck door shut and stalked toward the motel office, noting more than one broken pane on the windows of the rooms. What the hell did she think she was doing staying in a place like this?

The clerk at the desk gave him a bored look when Micah entered.

“Angelina Moyano,” Micah said tersely. “Which room?”

The clerk didn’t so much as blink or attempt to move from his slouched position in his chair.

“Don’t have anyone here by that name.”

“How the hell would you know?” Micah demanded. “You haven’t even looked.”

The clerk raised a paper cup and spit a stream of tobacco into it. “Hotel ain’t full. I’d know if someone by that name was booked in here.”

Micah held his temper in check. Barely. “Curvy Hispanic girl. Long, dark hair. Very pretty. Brown eyes. About this tall.” He held out a hand and indicated a height that came to his shoulder.

“Room 417.”

Micah couldn’t decide whether to be glad the punk had offered up the information so readily, or to reach across the counter, yank him up by his shirt and beat the living hell out of him.

But since Angelina wasn’t spending another minute in this dump, he wouldn’t worry about the potential danger she faced.

Not surprisingly, there was an out-of-service sign on the elevator. Muttering under his breath, he climbed four flights of stairs. Finally at Angelina’s door, he paused and stared at the flimsy frame. A good stiff wind would blow it down.

He knocked and waited, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. Several long seconds passed. He couldn’t fault her for not answering; in fact, if she’d blindly answered the door, he’d have tanned her little ass.

He stepped forward and knocked again. “Angelina, open the door,” he called.

He relaxed when he heard the dead bolt flip. The door creaked open, and he was met with a pair of dark eyes peering out of the two-inch crack.

“Micah?”

“Yeah, Angel, it’s me.”

Relief flashed in her eyes as she opened the door wider. “What are you doing here? How did you know where to find me?”

He shoved in past her, taking in the tiny room. “Don’t act so surprised. You had to know I’d find you after your disappearing act last night.”

She closed the door and turned around to face him. “By all means, come on in.”

Against his better judgment, he let his gaze drop down her body. Damn it all to hell, when had she developed such a killer body? He shook his head and focused somewhere else. Anywhere but on her.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded. “This place isn’t fit for rats, for God’s sake.”

She shrugged, a tiny, delicate motion that drew attention to the slim column of her neck. “It was what I could afford.”

“Pack your things. We’re getting out of here.”

When she didn’t move to comply with his order, he went to the bed where her suitcase was opened and things were lying in neat little piles to the side. He tossed everything in the suitcase then looked around to see if there was anything else he’d missed.

Angelina was watching him through narrowed lids, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Not that I don’t love having the busywork done for me, but would you mind telling me what the hell you’re doing?”

“I’d think it was obvious. Getting you the hell out of here.”

She dropped her arms and took a step toward him, which had him hastily backing up. God, he was acting like a first-rate pussy, but if she touched him, he couldn’t be responsible for what happened.

His skin tingled in sharp awareness, and hunger, raw and volatile, rose inside his gut. For a moment he saw her as she was the previous night. Naked, her skin glowing, her hair sliding like silk over her back.

Christ but he was going to need to pour bleach in his eyes to rid himself of that image.

“I’ve seen you twice in the last twenty-four hours and each time you seem determined to relocate me. Why is that, Micah?”

He snorted. “That’s a dumb-ass question. I find you in a place devoted to public sex acts. Like I’m not going to have anything to say about that? And now you’re in some seedy-ass motel. You’ll be lucky if you aren’t raped or killed or both in this joint.”

“I see. And what is your proposed solution, send me back to Miami?”

That thought had occurred to him, and he would have certainly suggested it already if he knew why she was here in the first place.

“Why are you here?” he asked as he sat down on the bed.

She lifted one shoulder and glanced away, her eyes flickering with emotion. “There’s nothing left for me in Miami. I thought Houston would make a nice change. I don’t know anyone anywhere else. It seemed logical enough to come here.”

Where he was.

Though it was left unsaid, it was certainly implied.

“Are you in some kind of trouble, Angel girl?” he asked gently.

She gave him a startled look. “Why would you ask that?”

“Seems like a logical question given your sudden appearance and your reluctance to return to Miami.”

She looked pointedly at him. “You never went back.”

He ignored that statement. It made it seem too much like he’d been running from his past. Hadn’t he been, though?

“You can stay with me until you find a decent place.”

He nearly groaned when he realized what he’d said. So there wasn’t another alternative, none that would assure him of her well-being anyway, but the idea that she’d be under his roof, sharing his space, and be a constant reminder of last night ... He was fucked.

She frowned slightly as she studied him. “You seem less than thrilled at the idea of having me in your place.”

“Of course you’re going to stay with me. It’s not like we haven’t lived together before,” he said with a half smile.

Angelina had lived with him, David and Hannah for nearly a year until she graduated high school. Truth was he hadn’t seen much of her during that year, or maybe he just hadn’t been paying attention. She and Hannah had been close, and David had been extremely protective of her. With that many guardians, she sure hadn’t needed him to sign on for the job.