Sinner (The Hades Squad #1) (16 page)

In not ten minutes of eavesdropping, he realized Destiny was virtually rewriting Nadine's book while flattering her outrageously. Nadine ate up all the compliments but wrestled each suggestion Destiny made, surrendering only after arguing her position stubbornly.

A shadow flashed across the window kitty-corner to the front door. Linc straightened, caught Satan hovering at the edge of the frame, and dipped his chin in response to Satan's crooking fingers.

Uneasy about leaving the two women alone, Linc made his way out of the house through the kitchen, and eased the back door shut. He picked his way through rocks and foliage to Satan's Expedition.

“You owe me.” Satan braced his hip against the SUV's hood, one booted foot rammed on the running board. “I've been dancing on eggshells for fifty fucking hours. Nadine's itching to claw and scratch.”

Cumulus clouds fluffed and sped across a sky colored to a soft, faded denim. Mt. McKinley rose in the background, the mountain's majesty blinding as the sun splintered white light on the snow-covered peaks. The lower third of the mountain was shaded dark by McKinley's reflection. The normal cloud cover had thinned today, and the north summit's apex strained toward the heavens.

“I saw.” Linc fingered his newly shaven jaw. “Nadine hasn't mentioned anything?”

“So far. She thinks Destiny spent those two days at Nord Haven.”

Satan folded his arms. “It's getting harder and harder to interrupt them when Nadine starts firing questions. Fuck, Sinner. I nearly had to take a Viagra last night.”

Viagra? Satan?
Nadine
. Linc winced. “Shit. I wouldn’t want
anyone
, far less you, having to fuck Nadine for the team.”

“Crap, I'm getting old.” Satan shoved his hands through his celebrating-being-a-civilian-again black hair, the ends of which scraped his broad shoulders, and shook his head. “Not eighteen months back, I could fuck twenty-four hours a day.”

“Nadine was frisky?”

Satan rolled his eyes. “And then some. I don't know how much longer I can keep this up.” He waved a hand at his groin. “Literally. D'you remember that pinpricking thing she did when we were holed up with her?”

“Shit, yes.” Linc set one sneaker-clad foot on the car's bumper and rested an elbow on his bent knee. “Weirded me out.”

“Yeah, well, that's tip of the iceberg now. The woman is seriously into pain. She wants me to watch her with another woman. And aw fuck, that's every man's fantasy, but strangely enough, the thought of it makes me queasy.” Satan straightened and narrowed his eyes. “If you breathe a word…”

“As if I would.” Linc sent a glance to the powder blue sky. “Where's O'Keefe?”

“Sleeping. He spent the night.”

“You, O'Keefe,
and
Nadine?”

“O'Keefe mainly. I spout the charm. Keep the peace. Throw in a fuck every so often. I was serious about the Viagra. Nadine doesn't cut it for me.”

“She's never done it for you.”

“You're serious about Destiny.” Satan made it more a statement than a question.

“Too right. Asked her to move in with me,” Linc murmured.

“And?”

“No answer.” Staring at a holly bush laden with red berries, he added, “She's got some baggage to sort out.”

“How many suitcases?”

“More than a carry-on, less than a full set. Trust issues. Her scumbag father kidnapped her when she was four, and she didn't find out about it until a few years back.”

A breeze circled the asphalt driveway, sifting dried leaves and pine needles, raising dust and dirt. A whiff of fresh pine skipped on the gust, filling his nostrils. Linc inhaled, relishing the smell of the clean, chill Alaskan fragrance.

“No shit. What kind of fucking asshole does stuff like that?”

“The kind who keeps his daughter a virtual prisoner for years. But she still cares about the son of a bitch.” Linc dropped his foot and scrubbed one hand over his face. “Half of me wants to pound the shithead into the ground. The other half knows that's not a smart move.”

“What're you going to do?”

“Fuck if I know.” Linc kneaded the small of his back. “Study the dirt Lucifer uncovers in the background checks and hope something sticks out.”

“The fire should be contained by end of day.”

“You flying Destiny to Fairbanks?”

“Noon flight,” Satan answered. “I take it you'll be along for the ride?”

“Nah, I want to wrap things up here and with the brass completely. Once I follow her to New York, I don't want any distractions.”

“We're due to sign the security contract in Athens in the first week of October. That's not an elective meeting. We all have to be there.” Satan dragged a hand through his hair.

“I know.”

“Well, at least she has a passport. What a name, huh? Destiny Driven. And she has the body of a stripper.”

“You shouldn't have reminded me,” Linc growled, and his fist flew out and connected with Satan's jaw.

The other man grunted and cupped his chin. His hip slid off the vehicle's ash-stained hood, he stumbled a couple of steps, grabbed the front light with one hand, and snapped, “What the fuck was that for?”

“You copped a feel,” Linc snarled, shaking his splayed fingers. “And if you so much as try to tongue her after the wedding, you'll be in hospital for a week.”

“Crap, you got it bad.” Satan grimaced, thumb rubbing a reddening spot to the left of his mouth. “Your sisters are going to have a field day. Going to be painful to watch.”

“Don't I know it.” Linc knew his siblings would dose him with I-told-you-sos forever.

Both men stiffened as a female voice screamed, “You fucking bitch!”

“Nadine.” Linc and Satan uttered the single word at the same exact moment.

“Shit.” In perfect timing, as if choreographed by a
Dancing with the Stars
instructor, they pivoted and sprinted to the front door, legs pumping, hands echoing the motion with quick jerks.

Linc grabbed the brass doorknob and twisted the cold metal.

“It's locked. Who locks their fricking doors in Healy?” Without waiting for an answer, he spun around and raced to the back door. Kicking it wide, he ate up the distance to the living room.

Destiny straddled Nadine, fingers fisted in her hair. She leaned over and spat, “You liar.”

“Get off me, you fucking bitch,” Nadine yelled. Spying Satan and Linc, she barked, “Ask them if you don't believe me. And let me tell you—there ain't nothing like having Satan up your ass and Linc up your—”

Destiny shoved an open hand over Nadine's mouth.

The chicken shit's hit a fucking tornado.

“What the hell happened in Alaska?” Jess Blaine asked, fingers draping a classic black sheath-clad hip, her squared, white-tipped nails a stark contrast against the onyx material.

One long-stemmed rose, stripped of thorns and sporting a satin ribbon three inches from the ruby petals, dangled from Jess’ two-fingered grip. She brought the flower to her nostrils and sniffed. “God, it smells like a rose. I can't remember the last time someone sent me flowers that actually had an aroma.”

Jess offered Destiny the rose. “Do tell, honey. At least share the card.”

If Lincoln Abraham Chapman thought he could bribe her with flowers, he was in for a big surprise. Destiny glared at the potential floral inducement, the pit in her belly yawning wider with each inhale. Sighing, she took ahold of the green stem. Fingers shaky, she fumbled with the rectangular envelope, let the rose fall onto her desk, drew the note card free, and flipped the paper over.

I'll do anything you want to make up for my mistake. Anything you want, anything.

We belong together. Forever.

Kenny

“I don't believe it.” Destiny flicked the card hard, picked it up, and crumpled it with one hand. “Kenny.”

She snorted.

Two weeks. Two weeks, thirteen hours, and—she glanced at the clock above the water cooler—thirty-five minutes, and she hadn't heard a peep from Linc. Not a single, fucking peep.

She groaned and covered her face with her open palms. “I'm even thinking the word fucking.”

“Honey.” Jess used the soothing tone she usually reserved for authors with egos of Everest magnitude. “You're not actually considering going back to Kenny, are you?”

Slapping her hands so hard on the desk that her palms stung, Destiny glared at her mentor. She grabbed the errant rose and thrust it at Jess. “Are you nuts? As if. Take it. If not, I'm shredding every petal and then stamping on the stem.”

“What
did
happen in Alaska, honey?” Jess’ gaze raked Destiny's features. “I've never seen anyone change so drastically in the space of a week. It must have been a man., but in
Alaska
? Isn’t the male population of
that
state more inclined to a, shall we say, ’primitive’ view of a woman’s place? Can’t imagine you falling for someone like that.”

Man, ha! A SEAL/paratrooper who couldn't tell the truth if fed the lines.

Stop. You are not going there.

Destiny shook her head and hoped the physical action would stop her mind from picturing Linc naked and erect every other heartbeat. She took a deep breath, pasted a smile on her face, and shifted in her seat. “I got Nadine's book in under deadline. That's what happened in Alaska.”

“You'll get a tongue-lashing if anyone hears you call her by her real name, and you know it,” Jess warned. “The edits were terrific, Sara.”

“Thanks.” Since Alaska, hearing her pseudonym jarred her, and she often forgot to answer when someone called her Sara.

“You know, before I read the new version, I really thought Angel had lost that spark,” Jess commented. “But her idea of starting the book with that smoking one-night stand—simply brilliant. This one's going to fly off the shelf.”

Ha!

Destiny snorted but clamped her lips together. Before she'd even stepped foot in New York, Nadine had phoned Jess and claimed the idea, when Destiny had all but written that scene herself, her fingers flying over the keyboard as her mind replayed the first time she and Linc had made love.

“Juanita's hinting that she wants you for her latest manuscript. Of course I told her you were too tied up with Angel's book, but I have a feeling she's going to go over my head. And you know Steven'll never say no to his most profitable author.”

Close to spitting out a venomous tirade, Destiny grabbed the strap of her Alfani handbag and stood. “I'm at lunch.”

“It's ten o'clock,” Jess protested.

“Then I'm on a break,” she snapped, stepping around Jess.

By the time she reached the elevator, Destiny's seething temper was bubbling over. She stabbed the Down button so hard, her fingernail broke. Sucking the stinging tip, she closed her eyes and an image of Linc mouthing her middle finger popped into her head, instantly chasing away her rage.

Why hadn't he called her?

Okay, so she'd told him she never wanted to set eyes on him again.

The elevator was surprisingly packed for midmorning. Destiny squeezed into the corner by the floor-number panel.

But she had a right to be mad after Nadine's ass and—

Slumping against the elevator’s steel wall, she stared at the numbers, following each one as it lit, but no digits stamped her pupils. Instead a vision of Linc naked, his hard cock riding Nadine’s perfect
small
backside, Satan nude and cupping her breasts, his long walnut fingers—

Nooo, you are not going to picture that, Destiny Driven.

But what would that feel like? Two men at once?

She thunked her forehead on the cold metal.

I'm turning into the slut my name implies.

“Are you okay, young lady?”

A small hand curved over Destiny's forearm. She followed the tweed-clad arm to a wrinkled neck sporting a nattily tied silk scarf. An aged version of Angela Lansbury repeated, “Is something wrong?”

Fire raced across Destiny's face, and she stammered, “I'm…I'm fine… Monday, you know.”

Destiny spent fifteen minutes nursing a hot chocolate with double marshmallows, double melted caramel, and double whipped cream topping. Might as well get fat and happy; nothing had gone right from the moment Nadine told Destiny about the snowed-in weekend she’d spent with Linc and Satan.

When she’d returned to New York and entered her apartment, Destiny had known someone had been in her place. When you live in a tiny almost-studio rental, you become anal about organization, and she had. A thorough inspection revealed that, although several items weren’t
exactly
in place, nothing was missing. Still, she couldn’t stop feeling creeped out.

So, even though she disliked the building’s leery janitor, Destiny forced herself to search him out, just in case something had happened. Like a fire alarm. The man muttered something about a toilet leak and having to inspect several apartments.

Damn it. Why was she obsessing about stupid shit? Because she hated thinking about Linc not meaning a word he’d uttered. Because she’d fallen half in love with the fucking SEAL/paratrooper nicknamed Sinner—really, how stupid could she be?

The day somersaulted downhill when she went back to her cubicle and found rat Kenny lounging in her chair, using one foot to swing the seat left, then right.

Idler. Lazy, trust-fund-spoiled brat.

“Hey, honey bunny, you got my rose?”

“Of all the nerve,” she yelled and swung her purse at his skull.

He ducked, leaped off the chair, did a stumble-hop, and sprinted around the panel separating Destiny's cubicle from her neighbor's.

“It was all a publicity stunt,” he said, his voice thick with condescension, his smile oil-slick arrogant.

“Your dick up Juanita's pussy was a publicity stunt?” She snorted and folded her arms; her purse slipped, and the pointed edge hit her knee. Stifling her wince, she continued. “How stupid do you think I am?”

All of a sudden Destiny knew.

Knew what had happened.

“She dumped you. Juanita dumped you, you asshole. Well, you can take your rose and shove it where the sun don't shine.” Destiny balled her fists, careful to keep both thumbs on top, and assumed her kickboxing stance. “Get out of here. Now. Fucking asshole.”