Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Sex, Lies and Midnight (Harlequin Blaze) [Mass Market Paperback]


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There was nothing just like a short, glittery skirt, long legs encased in smoky stockings and spiked do-me heels to create a male crunch and take notice.
And Simon Barton considered it his duty to look at this specific woman currently shimmying her hips rhythmically for the dance floor. The investment firm's holiday party is at full swing, filled with barely dressed women, many soon-to-be-regretted-when-sober PDAs, an empty bar along with a lush buffet.

For a people watcher, this party was better as opposed to circus, juggling clowns and—Simon noted one guy slipping his hand on the dress with the sloshed woman draped over his lap—a porno flick, all rolled right into a single package.

But he only had eyes for starters woman.

Not because she was gorgeous. Although she was.

Long black hair fell in curls almost on the tiny waist of a vivid green dress that have the maximum amount of sparkle as her hips had personality. The fabric hugged a physique made to create grown men to their knees, long sleeves along with a high neck giving the illusion of modesty at odds with all the sexy placemat that passed for any skirt. Legs way too long for such a petite body were encased in smoke black stockings leading all the way up down to your couple of strappy sandals so high, Simon could only wince. The lady was fascinating.

Not because she gave the sense to have this knack for making herself invisible, despite her striking looks. Although she did. Every time one of, from what Simon could tell were the high muckety-mucks wandered past, she shifted. Unobtrusively placing another dancer, diner or chit-chatter between her as well as the higher-ups.

And not because she was obviously a puzzle. Although, oh yeah, she was. One he was sure he'd solve. Sooner or later.

Because she was the main element to his future.

He felt, as opposed to heard, his cell phone ring within the pocket of his slacks.

His gaze still locked on the overblown beauty on the dance floor, Simon pulled out his phone. He glanced at the readout, grimaced, then stepped into a quiet corner where his view was unimpeded, but the sound was muted.

"Barton."

"I thought you were on assignment."

"I wrapped it up. Now I'm on personal time."

"Watching Maya Black can be a personal thing for you?"

Christ. Did Hunter have eyes everywhere? Simon gave an infinitesimal wince, his eyes still on those lush hips encased in holiday green. "A man might have to become three-times dead to not use a personal reaction to watching a woman like her."

"How'd you find her?"

"I'm a trained FBI agent," Simon said sardonically. "An assumed name is often a bit of cake."

"You hacked her file?" Hunter's words were matter-of-fact.

Simon shifted his eyes off of the sweetly swaying hips to inspect his fingernails. "would I do that?"

"In a heartbeat."

Simon grinned.

Whether he knew it or not, Hunter was Simon's mentor. The man whose career he'd used as a template for his own. Simon wanted anything rather than to climb exactly the same ladders and spark the identical attention. The Deputy Director was considered the elite in the elite. A man using a reputation for making the rules work for him, even while he worked around them. Assignment to Hunter's department was Simon's Holy Grail. There he'd rise over the ranks a minimum of twice as soon as anywhere else. But Hunter's team was exclusive, he only brought in major players. Agents who'd made huge busts.

Busts just like the Black case. Simon's gaze wandered back towards the tempting sway of Maya Black's hips. Since it turned out totally inappropriate to lust after a suspect, he attemptedto convince his body the surge of energy he felt in the sight of her was because she was his ticket to some major promotion.

"Why are you watching her?" he challenged, tossing the ball in Hunter's court.

"Who says I am? I may be watching you."

Simon's laugh garnered a lot more than one appreciative female glance. Not unusual. He got a lots of looks from ladies. Sometimes he used the advantages his tall, well-built golden-boy looks offered. in other cases he ignored them.

This time, he nodded in a handful of them, but shifted his weight, making it clear he wasn't searching for more. He might not about the job, per se, but this was all business.

"Maya Black is not a person of interest. You're away from bounds."

Simon shrugged that off. He figured boundaries were a fluid thing. He only paid attention to the ones that served him.

"She's got a record," he pointed out. "Arrest, no conviction."

"She was guilty."

"We don't know that. No," Hunter interrupted before Simon could haul out his well-worn argument, "we don't. We have conjecture, speculation as well as a whole lots of circumstantial supposition."

What that they had were sloppy agents who had obviously been incompetent. Maya Black had been busted for computer invasion, breaking to the files of an well-placed businessman using a bad reputation. The case really should have been open and shut, though the arresting officers had neglected to confiscate all from the computers on site when they'd brought her in. Within hours, the evidence had disappeared, the arrest compromised. Maya Black released.

Simon shook his head in disgust.

"She was managing a Ponzi con together with her old man and bungled it. If the agent in charge ended up patient, he'd have stood a solid case."

"That's your opinion," Hunter said, his tone one degree colder than before. It took Simon a heartbeat to consider that the agent in charge in the Black case was Hunter's father.

"It doesn't matter. I'm not here on official business. I'm just here, checking out your view," he hedged, returning towards the reason for Hunter's call.

"You're stepping on dangerous ground," Hunter warned.

"I live for danger." That wasn't the official FBI motto, but Simon saw enough from it in the nine years with the agency that he figured he had the proper to use it as a possible excuse.

"Don't die for it," Hunter responded in typical fashion before hanging up.

Simon grinned. You were required to just like the guy. He was crazy smart, scary intuitive and might kick some serious ass, too. And that he didn't hold the reins too tight on his agents. Which was why Simon wasn't too concerned about stepping beyond your lines on this matter. Hunter was much more about results than he involved micromanaging. Yet another reason Simon wanted that transfer. Working with all the elite would let him hone his skills, and fast track him toward his very own shot at Deputy Director.

Something he'd dreamed of since he was obviously a kid. That dream was the impetus to haul himself out from the dregs that has been his childhood. Not merely to survive, but to thrive. Making that dream become a reality would prove, not in order to him, but to everyone who'd ever doubted him, that he was more than the loser without having future.

Which brought him back towards the voluptuous delight laughing and doing the twist from the twinkling lights of the ten-foot Christmas tree. She was hot. She was sexy. And she was his ticket. Not on the next rung around the ladder, but to jumping up three to four rungs at once.

Tobias Black was a legend. Reputed con artist who'd done more jobs when when compared with a hooker inside the financial district at lunchtime. He was slick, fast and in accordance with most, untouchable. Intel had him retiring to go straight about five years back, but the statute of limitations wasn't through to all of his crimes yet. Simon knew that busting the old man, where a lot of had failed on the years, would be a guarantee of fame, accolades along with a corner office in FBI headquarters, D.C.

He hadn't determined how, yet. But he was confident the guy's only daughter could be his key. He just needed to wait for that right break. That he'd been recently waiting for two years, checking in on Maya from time and to time, didn't bother him. Patience was obviously a weapon he'd honed to your razor-sharp edge.

Every month or two he laid in San francisco bay area to accomplish a bit recon and find out what she was up to. Sooner or later, she'd get edgy and tire with this straight game she was playing.

Sooner or later, she'd provide him with the opening he needed.

Then he'd have her.

And his future could be set.

"Whew, I need a break." Maya DeLongue slid the fingers of both of your hands into her hair and lifted it, wanting to get some good cool air on the back of her neck. "It's crazy hot in here. Can we have a drink?"

"Sure, sugar." Her date wrapped his hand around her waist, pulling her close. Always cautious with public displays of affection that could call attention to her, Maya shifted, taking Dave's hand off her waist and creating a show of holding it instead because he led her through the dance floor.

Braverment Investments knew how to show their employees a fantastic time. Plenty of alcohol flowing, sufficient food to blunt the worst of the booze overload and music loud enough in order to avoid the employees from actually being forced to socialize. It would be a hit.

A tension headache brewing, Maya already regretted coming.

She'd spent the very last 3 years trying to be average in her version from the witness protection program, or in their own case, the criminal protection program. Her position in IT at Braverment was ideal for her. It paid enough to keep her within the style her tastes required, inside a company large enough to let her hide in plain sight. But the powers-that-be probably wouldn't be too big on hiring a gal who'd spent her formative years specializing in computer hacking.

But average was lonely.

So she'd promised herself until this season she was planning to quit hiding away. She had to get capable to hide her true identity and have a very fun, average life on the same time. So she'd forced herself to shimmy into somewhat green holiday dress and play the part of the social butterfly.

Sighing, she shifted in her own Jimmy Choos and stepped over the wide glass doors on the rooftop balcony. The cold December night wrapped round her body, making her shiver. The view of the fog-shrouded Golden Gate Bri...







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