Deadly Temptation. Justine Davis

several times on the telephone to the new head of Redstone’s Research and Development department, she’d only met her in person three times, twice during the long interview process, and again two weeks ago when the woman had called and invited her to dinner, where she had made the official job offer. She’d liked the woman’s brisk, no-nonsense approach, and knew that Josh had to have a lot of faith in her to get the department back on its feet after her predecessor had been caught trying to sell out Redstone.

      “We’re going to be working very closely together, so I think you should call me Lilith,” the woman said with a smile. Liana smiled back; it was impossible not to respond to the warmth in the woman’s eyes. “We’re not much for formality around here.”

      Liana glanced down at her own business suit, and couldn’t stop a wry smile from curving her mouth. “Does that mean I can retire this?”

      The woman smiled. “You may,” she said. “Unless you’re more comfortable in it.”

      “Panty hose? I think not,” Liana said. Lilith laughed; it was a warm, welcoming sound.

      “You’ll find that what matters around here is the quality of your work, not your attire,” Lilith said. “You have your access card and identification?”

      “Yes,” Liana said.

      “Any trouble getting in this morning?”

      “No.” It was true. She’d been greeted by name, as if she’d been here for years. Another testament to the efficiency of Redstone.

      “Have you met anyone else yet?”

      “Besides Josh?” she asked, wonder still tingeing her voice.

      Lilith smiled. “Yes, besides Josh.”

      “No,” she said. “I truly just arrived.”

      “Well, then, come with me.”

      The next few minutes were a blur of faces and names, although Liana knew there weren’t really that many. It was just that she was distracted. That photograph from the newspaper was haunting her—not a good way to approach her first day on the job she’d wanted more than any other in her life.

      “—and Ian, this is Liana Kiley. She’s going to be helping me with the cleanup.”

      Liana snapped back to the present when she realized she was face-to-face with Ian Gamble. In her extensive research before applying to Redstone, she’d studied the somewhat eccentric inventor’s reputation, looked at the incredible list of things he’d developed, been hardly able to believe that everything from a revolutionary prosthetic foot to a bomb detector had come from this single, fertile, brilliant mind. And this was the man JetCal, her former employer, had stolen from, this was the man who had imagined and produced what they’d wanted to take credit for.

      Now that she was face-to-face with him, she was more than a little stunned. Vivid green eyes assessed her through wire-rimmed glasses that did little to mask the lively intelligence behind those eyes. His sandy hair was a bit long, the glossy strands flopping forward to his brows in that stubborn way thick hair had.

      “Ian can help you if you have any technical questions about R & D,” Lilith was saying. “If you need to know if something someone else is doing bears too close a resemblance to our work to be coincidental, he’s your go-to guy.”

      She’d expected a more professorial type. But then, this was the man married to the woman from Redstone Security who’d conducted her background investigation, including contacting her family; she’d heard from her little brother that the most spectacular blonde on the planet had been to the house to interview them. He’d waxed eloquent about the serious hotness of Samantha Gamble, and knowing the amazing reputation of Redstone Security, Liana imagined it took a bit more than a stereotypical lab worker to keep up with a woman like that.

      Not that anyone she’d met at Redstone so far could ever be called stereotypical. She’d never been in a place that crackled with as much energy, intelligence and enthusiasm as Redstone Headquarters. It had surpassed every expectation she’d had when she’d applied for this job, and she knew she was going to love it here.

      If, she amended silently, she didn’t manage to be among the rarities, a Redstone employee who got fired on her first day for not paying attention.

      Hastily she scrambled to catch up. Ian Gamble smiled at her sympathetically. He really was attractive, she thought, in a boyish, bookish kind of way.

      “It’s a bit overwhelming, isn’t it?” Ian said.

      Gratefully she nodded. “It is. Coming to work here is so important to me, I’m afraid now that I’m here I’m a little scattered.”

      “We’ll cure you of that,” Lilith said briskly but not unkindly. “Come along.”

      Ordering herself to focus, Liana followed.

      Merry freaking Christmas, Logan Beck thought.

      He was, without a doubt, screwed.

      He rubbed his eyes. He couldn’t believe that after twelve years as a cop he was sitting here on the wrong side of an interview table, in a room improbably festooned with some worse-for-wear tinsel garland and with a window smeared with that spray-on snow that looked like dried cottage cheese.

      Nearly a year of round-the-clock work, walking that hideously fine line, living with the scum of the city, knowing he could be discovered and executed at any moment, all of it for nothing. His cover was blown, all the progress he’d made in the investigation wasted.

      But the worst part was that, if he’d been on the other side, looking at the parade of evidence Internal Affairs was trotting out, he’d suspect him, too. And he didn’t know how to deal with that.

      “—explain that deposit into your bank account?”

      “I told you I can’t,” Logan said wearily. “I only know I didn’t put it there.”

      “Look, Beck, everybody knows it’s hard. You work with slime like that, see them rolling in cash, while you’re risking your life for next to nothing…”

      Logan looked up then. George Harkin had been, if not a friend, at least not an enemy, once. They’d gone through the police academy together and had worked in the patrol division at the same time. Harkin had transferred to IA shortly after Logan had gotten the promotion to detectives.

      “You think I did this, don’t you?” He couldn’t quite believe it even as he said the words.

      “I think anybody can succumb to temptation, given the right circumstances.”

      There was a note of superiority in his tone that made Logan flinch inwardly. Harkin had congratulated him on the promotion to detectives eight years ago, but the words had been tinged with an edge that had made Logan wonder if they were genuine. Now he had the sinking feeling he’d been right.

      “I swear, George, I didn’t. Why would I?”

      Harkin shrugged, as if motive was the least significant part of this equation and not his concern. Logan had always known Harkin was ambitious, had his eyes on a steady climb in the department. Apparently if that climb included jettisoning friends and the truth, so be it.

      “Think about it,” he said, hoping to find some trace of the man who had once been his friend in the man sitting in ominous silence across the table from him. “Don’t you wonder how all this evidence just sort of fell into your lap? A string of anonymous tips about a cop working undercover? You know that’s suspect right there.”

      “Yet everything the caller gave us proved out. Including the money.”

      “For God’s sake, do you really think if I took the money I’d be stupid enough to just dump it in a bank account anybody could check up on?”

      “I don’t know, Logan. Maybe you are that stupid. Or maybe you’ve been dipping into the product, and it’s fried your brain.”

      Shock