Page 21 of Big Easy Temptation


  fond of Captain Awesome as nitwit Johnson, but that man was madly in love with you. Officer Michaels is looking to move up and thought you would be the perfect wife.”

  She frowned. She’d never once felt as if Chad was using her. Quite the opposite, in fact. And Holland had always felt guilty. “Chad was fun to date. And might I point out that Captain Spencer couldn’t have been too madly in love since he got married the day after he dumped me.”

  “He dumped you? That’s not how I heard it, Kirk. The story circulating was that you’d devastated the man and the idiot got shitfaced, then found himself in a bad situation,” Jim shot back. “Since I’ve been married four times, I sympathize with the guy. Never got the one woman I loved so I kept trying to make it work with someone else. Like I said, you were right to turn down Detective Michaels, for more than one reason.”

  “Are we having some kind of therapy session here?” Her boss, Bill Edmonds, was a fit man, having spent over twenty years in the Army. Now, at sixty, he headed her unit. “Because if we are, I’m running the other way.”

  “We’re discussing Kirk’s love life,” Jim pointed out to his former partner.

  Bill nodded. “Yeah, that’s been a fucked-up mess since she dumped Captain Awesome. You don’t come back from that, Kirk. Give it up. Be a nun. Or find a boy toy like White here and pump out a couple of babies.”

  Gemma shot their boss the finger. It was that kind of workplace. “My Frasier is a beautiful man and he gave me three gorgeous babies. Kirk would be so lucky.”

  Frasier White was a skinny little academic teaching comparative literature at Tulane. He weighed at least twenty pounds less than his wife and had about a quarter of her muscle tone, but she lit up every time she saw him.

  Yeah, she could be so lucky. Only one man had ever made her light up, and he was lost to her forever.

  “I need reports in thirty minutes on all open cases, people. Sort out your love life later, Kirk.” Bill stopped at her desk. “Though if you give a damn about my opinion, you did the right thing. Michaels wasn’t good enough for you.”

  Bill nodded and moved on.

  Holland flipped her laptop closed, unable to look at the screen a second more. “Well, at least we have a consensus.”

  Gemma leaned on the desk. “You have to let him go.”

  Holland gestured to her laptop. “Oh, I think I did that already.”

  “Nope. I wasn’t talking about the replacement. I was talking about the real thing. Spencer. You know, when I transferred here two years ago and got assigned to you, Jim and Bill told me that you’d gotten involved in a little side research that meant something to someone you loved and it went bad. They said you’d never gotten over it. You still haven’t, honey. It’s time.”

  She’d moved on . . . mostly. She’d known three years ago that she was giving up Dax and his warm, loving family. She hadn’t realized how much it would hurt the first time she’d seen Judith Spencer and the woman had turned away from her, her aristocratic head held high and tears in her eyes.

  She’d kept up with Gus. Her crazy friend was doing so well in D.C. Every now and then she caught sight of Gus following after Roman and Zack and her direct boss, Liz Matthews, as they all got out of Marine One or Air Force One or whatever amazing transportation they happened to be taking.

  Not that she answered Gus’s phone calls. They had been numerous that first year. Gus had left message after message complaining about a lack of information from Holland’s side. She’d told Holland she wanted the truth. Holland couldn’t give it to her so she’d ignored her friend.

  It had worked. After about a year, Gus had stopped calling.

  She didn’t have Courtney anymore, either. It was funny. She hated the woman and missed her at the same time. Once Courtney had eloped with Dax, Holland hadn’t had a friend to talk to. Maybe it hadn’t mattered. After her split with Dax, she’d gone into her shell and hadn’t come out. Not even for Chad. Oh, she’d gone through the motions, tried to wear a brave face, but she’d held herself back from everyone and everything that happened around her. She’d done her job, gotten through the days, and tried hard to convince herself she was falling in love.

  Why hadn’t she simply said yes to Chad? She wasn’t going to get a better offer. At least she could have had a life with him. Now she was a walking cliché—well over thirty, sad, and never been married. Maybe she ought to get a passel of cats and start hoarding.

  “I’ve got to go get ready for that meeting. I’ll present for both of us. Why don’t you take an early lunch,” Gemma said with a pat on her back. “No one will mind. And hey, come out to the house this weekend. We’ll barbecue and relax with my monsters by the pool.”

  Gemma winked, then strode to her desk to gather her files.

  One by one, all of her coworkers left the room to join the meeting. Every single agent who walked by sent her a sympathetic glance or smile. Within moments, she was all alone and everything seemed far too quiet.

  This was the way her life would be from now on. Quiet. Uneventful. She could see it so clearly. Despite what the others had said, Chad had been a nice guy. Maybe he had been looking to further his career. Who wasn’t? But she couldn’t believe the man would have married her simply to gain favor with her uncle. No one attached themselves for life to another person for the sake of a few rungs on the career ladder.

  She flipped open her laptop again and the video began to play. Everyone looked so happy—except her. God, was this clawing emptiness all she could expect in life? She’d thought it would fade over time but no. Would she live the rest of her days unable to accept love or joy because it hadn’t come from one man?

  “You know, I think I should start a support group for men who’ve been turned down by Holland Kirk. It’s getting to be a sizeable group, so we could have meetings and form our own twelve-step program.”

  Holland froze in her chair, her stomach knotting. She’d know that sexy, gravelly voice anywhere. Had she hallucinated that voice in a desperate attempt to maintain some connection to the man she’d loved and lost?

  Please let that be it. Because she was going to be mortified if Captain Dax Spencer was actually standing behind her, watching her complete and utter humiliation play out on the web.

  “This is my favorite part,” his voice whispered. “Right there. That’s when that guy’s soul kind of died. You can see it. Hey, at least I didn’t get all dressed up for my big moment. You look nice, though. Somehow you manage to look gorgeous even when you’re breaking a man’s heart.”

  She thought about not turning around. All she had to do was stand up and walk away. She never had to look at his face. She would go to the meeting room. Her boss would deal with him. Hell, she could send Gemma out and see how Dax dealt with Xena: Warrior Princess.

  Or she could be an adult.

  She sucked in a bracing breath, then turned to him. Dax lounged against her desk with a smirk, looking like a decadent god. He wasn’t dressed in his normal neat khakis, but well-fitting jeans and a white T-shirt that hugged his muscular torso. He held a helmet in one powerful hand and his hair was longer than it had been before. He looked slightly older, a little harder, and so beautiful it hurt to look at him.

  “Maybe you can recommend eloping with my best friend to all my sad-sack men?” Okay, maybe she wasn’t capable of acting like an adult in front of him.

  “Well, sweetheart, your best friend wasn’t a betraying bitch who accepted money in return for torching my family.” His lips had curled up in a nasty smile. “And she was way better in bed than you ever thought of being.”

  God, where had her sweet man gone? Dax hadn’t been capable of this kind of nastiness before. That was precisely why she’d never been able to truly turn him down. He hadn’t been ruthless or capable of throwing someone under a bus to get a little farther down the road. He’d certainly never been capable of being so mean.

  “Well, I was very sorry to hear about your divo
rce. Really, after how much time you put into the relationship beforehand, I would have expected you to last a whole extra day or so.” She’d always been capable of being mean, especially after circumstances had forced her to tear out her own heart. The anger she’d felt afterward festered and brewed under her surface, but she tamped it down. Usually.

  Her words didn’t seem to affect him. If anything, he smiled a little more brightly. “Well, we did our best. It looks like you moved on to the next idiot. Tell me something. How much money did you make off this asshole? Like the tux, by the way. He really went out of his way.”

  She was done with this conversation. “Is there something I can do for you, Captain Spencer? If not, I’d like you to leave the premises. I don’t invade your workspace and I expect that you won’t enter mine again. Get back to the base. I’m sure there’s some bright-eyed civilian waiting to be your next drunken conquest.”

  “I don’t need to get a girl drunk to get her in bed, sweetheart. You should know that.”

  “No, she just needs to be drunk to marry you.”

  He froze for a moment and she wished she could take the words back. “Well, now that is true, but that’s what happens when your life gets dragged through the mud and predatory insects spend all their time using you. Did that little boy know that you enjoy fucking for cash? I swear, Holland, if I’d known all you really wanted was a little profit, we could have worked something out. Hell, I’d have paid a lot to fuck your ass.”

  One minute she was listening to him and the next she was barreling down on him, her hand arcing through the air and connecting with his cheek. The sound flashed through the quiet room like a crack of thunder.

  His eyes flared and he leaned in, looking ready to reach for her. Then suddenly, he shook it off. Disappointment wound through Holland, though she did get some small satisfaction from seeing her handprint on his face. It wouldn’t be there long. In fact, it was already fading, but at least he’d feel it for a few moments.

  How the hell had they gotten here? She’d loved this man with all her heart. She’d given everything to save him. And he’d called her a whore. It really was time to move on. She’d let him go to protect him. She realized now she’d always believed—and hoped—that one day he would stand in front of her again so they could start over because they were meant to be.

  It hit her with the impact of a two-by-four to the chest there was no “meant to be” in life. Was she really still five fucking years old and waiting for her prince to come? Her daddy. Yeah. She was still waiting for her father to come home and treat her like a princess, to see everything her mother had sacrificed. The truth was her mother had died broken and alone and waiting. Not long after that, her father had remarried and shipped his daughter off to New Orleans so she wouldn’t cause trouble with the new wife. So she could be forgotten.

  Holland was suddenly so tired.

  “Believe it or not I didn’t come here to insult you,” Dax said after a moment.

  “It doesn’t matter.” It really didn’t anymore. This man who stood in front of her now wasn’t the same man she’d fallen in love with. Maybe that man hadn’t existed in the first place. Maybe she’d merely made him up in her head. “If you’re looking for someone in particular, I suggest you speak with the receptionist. Everyone’s in a meeting right now. They should be out in an hour or so.”

  She picked up her purse. Screw lunch. She would take the afternoon off. Everyone would know why when they saw who was here.

  Holland frowned. In fact . . . why was he here if it wasn’t to make her miserable? She supposed there could be any number of reasons and not one of them concerned her.

  “Take care,” she murmured, then started to go, but he reached out, grabbing her arm.

  “Wait. I came to see you, but not about us. Obviously. Neither one of us wants to dredge up old wounds. I came here because there’s been a break in my father’s case and I expect you to do what you didn’t do last time—your job. I guess you like to make your money the old-fashioned way—by selling out your lovers—but this time I need you to be a cop.”

  She stared at him for a moment, feeling her jaw drop. He was back here to look into his father’s case? And he was still calling her a whore. Everything she’d done, she’d done to protect him, but he was too stupid to see it.

  She was done playing his games. She was stepping out of the middle of this shit for good. If he wanted to risk himself and the people in his life, that was his call. She was done.

  Holland twisted her arm away and tossed her purse down, then turned back to her computer. The case files were still there. She hadn’t deleted or altered a thing. In fact, she’d spent the last three years quietly searching for the man who’d casually ruined her life. She’d been smart about it this time around since she’d known someone would be watching her. She’d kept up her life at NCIS and found ways to mine information on the deep web where no one could track her. That man on the phone had proven elusive, but she’d found him. Apparently his usefulness had come to an end six months before because they’d found a John Doe in New York City who matched her man’s description. She’d recognized him from the photos in NYPD files, but no one knew his name, only that he’d had connections to the Bratva.

  Without another word, she e-mailed the entire file to Dax. As soon as she got home, she would delete every shred of her investigation. She would burn the hard copy she had and start life over again. Without him. Without any expectation of him.

  “There. I just sent you my whole file, including all my case notes and everything I’ve discovered in the last three years. Think before you look at some of those photos. They’ll make you look at your father in a different light, but that’s your call now. If you tell my superiors I sent you that file, you’ll surely get me fired. I’m certain that will make your day. Don’t ever call or contact me again, and I would absolutely get bodyguards on your loved ones if you really give a damn about them. Once the Russian mob knows that you’re looking into this again, they’ll come after your mother and sister.”

  The hard look left his eyes, and just for a second he looked like her Dax again. “What are you talking about? Holland, what do you mean you’ve been investigating for the last three years? And the Russian mob? That’s the lead I have.”

  She inched away from him. She wasn’t going to fall into the snare of that gorgeous male face or those chocolate eyes. She needed to get out of this building because she wasn’t going to let anyone see her cry over this asshole ever again, least of all him. “Yes. They called me three years ago, just before we split up, and told me if I didn’t drop the investigation and persuade you to do the same, they would kill you and your family. I made the decision to save you. It’s all in there. You’ll see the details when you read my files. Good-bye, Dax.”

  She turned and walked out, her head held high.

  They were finally over, that chapter of her life closed for good. Somehow it wasn’t the relief she’d thought it would be.

  * * *

  Dax stared after her. What the hell had just happened?

  He was stuck, unable to move, unable to do anything but stare after her. Even when she walked out, he still stared.

  He hadn’t meant to say any of those things to her. He’d meant to be civil, polite. Cold, yes, because she wasn’t a friend and apparently never had been. She’d been a bitch out for money and fame, like the rest of them, but he’d gotten past it. Despite what he’d said to Connor, he was over Holland Kirk.

  Hell, he’d even tried to make his marriage to Courtney work. He’d woken up the day after with a hangover from hell and a marriage certificate and decided that if he couldn’t have Holland, he’d do his best with Courtney.

  She’d been sweet and she’d tried, too. More than he had. He’d been happy to ship off for six months and to ignore the leave he was offered. He’d chosen to re-up his commission and gone back to sea. When the divorce papers had shown up along with a note that she’d f
allen for someone else, he’d written her a healthy check and wished her well.

  Courtney had cheated on him and the last time he’d seen her, he’d given her a big hug and asked about her new husband. He’d felt absolutely no rage toward her.

  The minute he got in the same room with Holland, he called her a whore.

  His cheek still hurt and he’d deserved it.

  What the hell did she know about the Russian mob? He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked his e-mail. Sure enough, there was a massive file from Holland he’d received minutes before. Too big to open on his phone. He would have to wait.

  Had she lied to protect him? Or was she lying again?

  “Holy shit. Are you Spencer?”

  He glanced up and there was a tall woman who looked like she could take him in a fight. She had platinum hair cut in a fashionable bob, but somehow it didn’t soften her. “I’m Captain Spencer. I was here to meet with Special Agent Kirk.”

  The woman’s lips curled up. “I gotta teach that girl how to fight. She should have punched you. Maybe she could have broken your jaw. An openhanded slap reminds me of all those bitchy housewives on TV, and that handprint shows. Real women punch. Or kick. You deserve a good kick to the gnads, Captain. We’ll see how awesome you are when your testicles hit your abdominal cavity.”

  “You’re very specific in your threats, Special Agent . . . ?” He needed a name to call her besides Ball Buster.

  “Gemma White. I’m Holland’s new partner. I say new, but we’ve been working together for almost two years now. That’s new in law enforcement since our partnerships tend to be long-term. Unlike you Navy boys we don’t change out crew every year. We know how to watch each other’s backs. And how to take out the trash when we need to.”

  So she was a fan. “I didn’t come here to cause trouble.”