Once Upon A Seduction. Jamie Sobrato
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not feel sorry for himself. He’d had a great racing career, and he’d chosen when to end it on his own—while he was still at the top. Wrecking his car, breaking his leg in five places and enduring the past year of physical therapy might not have been part of his plan, but he knew he was lucky to have walked away from that wreck alive.
And he had not quit out of fear, as some people had claimed. So what if his father, also a racecar driver, had been killed in a crash twenty years ago? That didn’t mean he was afraid of the same fate.
His quitting had simply meant he had enough sense to see a pattern emerging—Valletti men and racing careers resulted in bad news. Driving for Team California in the Indy racing circuit had been his dream come true, but he was ready to move on to the next thing.
Whatever that was.
The entrance of Dynalux Systems opened. Skye came walking out carrying a shopping bag and swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. As she headed across the parking lot, he could see that she was crying. Bawling, actually, her pretty face contorted in sobs that wracked her shoulders and made him feel like a complete jerk.
Just what he needed. A woman who could turn her emotions on and off like a faucet. Thirty minutes ago, she’d been all smart-ass comments and scathing looks, and now she was crying as if the world had come to an end. Knowing his luck, she’d spotted his car in the parking lot and had emerged from the building already trying to con him again.
He’d never thought of himself as a sucker before three weeks ago. Now, thanks to Martin, or whatever the hell his name was—Nico felt as if he couldn’t trust anyone. Especially not the two-faced little hottie who was probably still Martin’s girlfriend.
And yet, here he was, torn between wanting to prove she was involved with Martin so he could forget about her, and hoping like hell she wasn’t involved so he could get with her himself.
She got into the red Honda del Sol he’d seen parked in his driveway a hundred times, and he knew he was going to follow her. What he’d do when they reached her destination, he had no idea.
Nico waited until she’d pulled into traffic to leave his parking spot, allowing three or four cars between them all the time to make sure she wouldn’t notice she was being tailed. The rush-hour congestion on the road gave her little chance to get away from him anyway.
As they sat at what must have been their fifth cycle through the same traffic light, Nico allowed himself to examine his reaction to Skye today. Instead of hating her as much as he’d hoped he would upon confronting her, he’d found himself as mesmerized as ever.
Maybe it was the excitement she stirred in him that was such a draw. Whereas he mostly felt as though he was walking around in a fog, his senses and emotions dulled ever since he’d retired, Skye made him feel completely alive again. How someone he’d mostly viewed from afar could do that, he had no idea. Well, except that a woman as beautiful as her was bound to stir something in him.
She had silky brown hair that fell to the middle of her back, long and feminine just the way he liked it. And those eyes, those take-me brown eyes—what man could refuse their unspoken invitation? The clingy top and skirt she wore had given him the chance to admire her very well-shaped curves up close. She clearly spent time at the gym, and he found himself imagining what kind of sweaty workout she did to get such a sexpot body.
He imagined stripping her of her damp little shorts and top, licking the salty perspiration between her breasts, working over her body until her sweat mingled with his, and—
Whoa.
Those were exactly the kind of thoughts he needed to banish. Skye Ellison was likely a con artist herself. Okay, maybe a con artist in training, and possibly not a very good one, but still. She’d probably helped rip him off.
He recalled the way she’d gotten so defensive when he’d accused her, and that left little doubt in his mind that she at least knew about Martin’s scam. The way her hackles had risen at the suggestion of her involvement in the con, she might as well have had a guilty sign blinking over her head. It didn’t matter how damn sexy she looked if she was a criminal.
Okay, it was possible he was being paranoid. He couldn’t argue that his judgment had been a little off lately, but still, it seemed like a sure bet that Skye was not to be trusted.
Nico scowled at the person who had just pulled up in the emergency lane to the right of him and tried to wedge himself in front of Nico’s car. Only in L.A. would anyone be bold enough to try outrunning a Ferrari with a tricked-out Toyota. When the light changed and Nico edged up, coming within inches of hitting the car to keep it out of his lane, he knew he’d finally become an official Los Angelino.
Having moved to the city four years ago to join one of the premier racing teams in the U.S., he’d decided to stick around after he retired from racing. It was easier to film promotional spots from here and he’d gotten attached to his house on the beach.
He missed his hometown sometimes, but he couldn’t complain about Southern California’s glorious sunshine after having lived through Chicago’s miserable winters for most of his life. With only his mother and his sister back in Illinois—neither of whom he was very close to—he hadn’t seen any reason to return there.
Right now, in the middle of May, while there was probably a thunderstorm or something happening in the Midwest, it was a sunny, perfect seventy-five degrees in L.A.
After forty-five minutes of following Skye through rush-hour traffic, they finally made it to a North Hollywood apartment complex, where she parked her car. Nico pulled in next to her and got out just as she did.
“What are you doing here?” she said, doing a good job of acting as though she had no idea he’d followed her.
“You didn’t think you’d get away that easily, did you?” he said, wishing like hell he’d made a plan.
“I’m thinking I should call the police. Are you stalking me or what?” She began digging around in her bag, then produced a cell phone.
“Go ahead, dial 911. I’m not doing anything wrong.”
“Only because being an asshole isn’t against the law in the state of California.”
“Now that I know where you live, I can really be an asshole if I want to be. Until you agree to help me, that is.”
“Fine! You want my help? Go rummage through my underwear drawers. Read my e-mail. See if you can uncover my big fat plot with Martin to steal your money.”
“Don’t tempt me. How about I just come in and you tell me everything you know.”
“I know nothing! When are you going to get that through your head?”
She turned and stalked up the stairs, glancing over her shoulder at him periodically as she went. Her hot little ass tempted and teased him with every step she took.
Then she made her way along the outdoor walkway to her door, number two C, moving as if she were about to break into a sprint.
Nico followed, making a concerted effort to notice his surroundings and not his companion. Skye’s white-stucco apartment building was a little shabby, but no more so than the other residences in the area. It was what he’d expect a twenty-something woman to be able to afford in North Hollywood, so no surprises there. The neighborhood was filled with hip young professionals and wannabe actors working their way up to a house in the hills.
Nico had looked at condos in the area when he’d first moved to L.A., but in the end he’d opted for a place away from the city, on the beach in Malibu. The price had been steep, but every time he heard the ocean from inside his house, or glanced outside at the view, he didn’t regret his decision. He’d chosen his place partly because of its in-law suite located in a separate cottage, which he could use as a guest house for visiting friends and family.
And the setup had worked out great until Martin had come along and convinced Nico that he was worthy of renting the place while he tried to get his so-called business venture off