SETH KINGSTON glanced at the bar on the other side of the club, wondering if he could grab a scotch and water without missing his “date,” who was already ten minutes late. Not that he was that thirsty, but he could use a distraction. Atlanta’s beautiful people milled around him in prearranged couples—flirting, teasing and otherwise attempting to entice their blind dates into bed.
He, on the other hand, had to center his mind firmly on exposing a woman who wasn’t who she claimed to be. Though he’d much rather focus his attention on charming the panties off one of the lovely ladies gyrating on the dance floor, this was the price a working man had to pay. He had to stick to one goal at a time.
When Seth had received his walking papers from the Atlanta police force after ten solid years of flawless duty, he’d wondered what manner of indignities he’d be reduced to in his quest for gainful employment. He’d entered the police force immediately after college, where he’d studied criminal justice. He knew how to be one thing—a cop. And since he had no desire to leave his home state, he’d had little choice but try his luck in the field of private investigation.
A team player, Seth wasn’t sure he’d like working alone all the time. And yet, with this first assignment, the worst he had to do was endure a blind date with a relatively attractive, yet wholly deceptive woman. Wasn’t so bad. Still, standing smack-dab in the middle of the hip, hot party scene he’d grown tired of after years on the vice squad, he wouldn’t have minded a dose of fortification—preferably the type that came straight-up or on the rocks.
But then he noted the thick crowd and harried bartenders scurrying beneath neon signs and glittering bottles of such varied and colorful libations as blood red orange liqueur and cinnamon schnapps. Deciding against the drink, Seth shoved his shoulder against the wrought-iron pole not five feet from the main entrance to Blind Dates and waited. Liquor wasn’t worth the chance of missing her. Gina Ralston was one slippery woman. Even during his time on the force, he’d never before wrangled with a suspect he couldn’t get at least one bit of dirt on. She had no parking tickets. No speeding citations. And most interesting—no past. According to his checks, Gina Ralston had arrived in Atlanta a year and a half ago without ever having been anywhere else. Her birth certificate? Supposedly lost in a fire. Work history? None—she claimed to be a former housewife. Educational history? Except for vague references to overseas and online study, nothing he could verify. He’d tried every avenue, from legal to slightly legal and downright criminal. The main material witness in a federal case, Gina Ralston apparently had no past, no dirty secrets, nothing Seth could use to discredit her in the eyes of a jury.
Though the fact that she had no past seemed enough to incriminate her in his eyes. No one went to such lengths to hide their former life without a damned good reason. Or a nefarious reason, at least.
Seth had been hired by federal prosecutors to produce evidence that would cast doubt on Gina and her dubious testimony in the murder case against Eric Miller, a suspected crime boss. Because Seth needed the potential vindication, he’d agreed. Under no other circumstances would he have come up with this blind date scheme.
Drummed off the force due to a politically motivated house-cleaning by the new city council, Seth now had a chance to reestablish his hard-won reputation. The feds—feds on the other side of the political fence from the yahoos who canned him—had tapped him to work covertly on this high-profile case. And when Seth fulfilled his charge, he’d see to it that the city councilmen who’d fired him would have enough egg on their faces to scramble omelettes and feed the entire population of Georgia.
But first, mysterious Gina Ralston had to show up.
With his considerable charm, Seth had managed to cozy up to the people Gina worked with at a barely legit telemarketing firm. From them, he’d discovered that Gina Ralston had a penchant for anonymous dating—one-shot deals that resulted in a free meal and a good time and in some cases, no names exchanged—no real names, at least. Unfortunately, her unconventional social tastes also weren’t enough to throw doubt on her reliability as a witness and definitely gave no clue as to who Gina Ralston had been before she moved to Atlanta. For this, he needed to get up-close and personal. Seth didn’t doubt that from close proximity, he could find out whatever he wanted to know.
He glanced at his watch again. She was now fifteen minutes late. His instincts screamed that she wasn’t going to show. Could mean she was on to him—which he sincerely doubted. He’d give her ten more minutes before he blew this human meat market. Some things he could take only in small doses.
Though the brunette suddenly swinging toward him…he could certainly take her in a large dose.
She stopped directly in front of him and blessed him with a devilish grin. “You Sam?”
“Who wants to know?”
The brunette glanced coyly to her side, then fluttered her lashes in an expertly flirtatious glance that could get her in serious trouble. Fortunately, this babe looked like she could handle trouble of any shape or kind.
“Seems obvious that I do. I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”
Seth drank her in with his eyes, taking his time, making no secret of his interest. Her dark purple dress hugged her curves like a Corvette going ninety on the Loop. She had a slim waist and legs, but the generous contours of her hips and breasts dried all moisture from his mouth. And this woman knew how to make the most of her body. Her high heels highlighted the taut muscles of her calves and an amethyst choker and long, dangling earrings drew his eyes to her elegant neck. A man could lose himself for hours nibbling on all that smooth flesh.
“If you are talking to me, I’m one lucky man. Most of the girls here are spoken for before they walk through the door.”
“I could be, too, if you don’t waste time. Buy me a drink?”
Seth chuckled. She certainly took her own advice and moved fast. Almost too fast. Something about her suddenly struck him as familiar. She wasn’t Gina, of course. But damned if he didn’t care as much as he should.
He glanced around the room one last time, wondering if the object of his investigation was watching him flirt with another woman. Before he’d entered the club, he’d staked out the parking lot and watched Gina drive up, valet park and scoot inside. He knew she was here—somewhere. Hiding out in the bathroom, maybe? Lingering in the crowd and checking him out from a distance? Would talking to this lovely lady in the purple dress ignite Gina’s jealous streak or would she run off in a huff?
Did he have the time to take the chance?
“I’m meeting someone,” Seth finally volunteered. This undercover sting didn’t involve this beauty—the least he could do was be honest.
“No, you’re not.”
“Excuse me?”
She slid one foot to the side in what might have been an attempt at a casual pose, but the effect was nothing less than seductive. “Gina took off.”
“When?”
“About twenty seconds ago.”
Seth started to turn, but stopped. Running after her would do no good. She’d been spooked. Why, he didn’t know. For a brief instant, he wondered if she’d somehow checked him out and didn’t like what she saw. Was that possible?
Nah. Seth wasn’t vain, but he hated false humility more than conceit. Maybe he wasn’t as witty as some guys, but he at least looked good from a distance.
“Do you know why she left?”
The sensuous brunette shook her head. “Something about you dating her cousin a while ago. She didn’t want to piss her off.”
So Gina had been spooked—enough to make up a quick lie and wrangle a stranger to cover her escape. He’d already suspected Gina Ralston was smarter than she let on. Now, he knew for sure.
“Her cousin, huh? Nice touch.”
“Excuse me?”
“Never mind. Doesn’t matter. My blind date dumped me, but she was kind enough to send you my way. I’ll have to find some unique way to thank her.” Like getting her ass tossed in jail for perjury. That would do. Actually, Gina deserved a big fat kiss for finding an unattached woman in this place—particularly a drop-dead gorgeous one—but he was too pissed off at being double-crossed to extend any gratitude to her. “I’d love to buy you that drink now, but I need something from you first.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. Her stance wasn’t entirely defensive, but coolly challenging instead. A prickle of warning shot up the back of his neck. He had the distinct impression that his new companion wasn’t all she seemed to be, either.
“What’s that?”
“Your name.”
She grinned and her dark brown eyes, round with long lashes, softened. “Lacey. Lacey Baptiste.”
A thrill shot into Seth’s gut like a hot bullet. Lacey Baptiste! God, he should have remembered. She was a hard woman to forget. He hadn’t seen her in years—years that had treated her and her traffic-stopping body very, very well. He didn’t expect her to remember him. As far as he knew, they’d never been introduced or even exchanged a word of conversation. But he’d seen her quite often back when he was working undercover for the vice squad, making sure the bars and clubs peddled only alcohol and music and not club drugs. She’d fairly ruled the party scene, along with her entourage of equally gorgeous, equally fun-loving friends. Where were her girls now?
It’d been over four years since he’d worked the club beat. Lacey looked older, but like a fine wine, she’d only improved with age.
He offered his hand, which she took without hesitation. He expected a coy, soft shake, but she shocked him with firm forcefulness—the greeting of someone with authority, not a flirty party girl.
She instantly recognized her mistake and relaxed her hand, but Seth’s instincts hit alert mode. Just who was Lacey Baptiste now? After all these years?
“Nice to meet you, Lacey. Name’s Sam. Sam Duke.”
Giving her his favorite fake name wasn’t his first choice, but it was his first instinct. He didn’t have any recent information on Lacey Baptiste. He knew little about her past. She and Gina could have been lifelong friends. And if they were, he’d find out. Soon.
Her dark eyes flashed down his body, drinking him up like a Black Orchid shooter. The memory of the flavors danced on his tongue. Smooth rum. Syrupy blue curaçao. Tart grenadine and cranberry juice. If Lacey tasted anything like his favorite shot drink, he was in for a night to remember.
“Very glad to meet you, Sam. Now, if you’re tired of standing here by the door, let me lead you into temptation.”
She tugged him forward, her eyes flashing with naughty possibilities, her grin curved with dark intentions. Seth had no idea how his luck had changed so drastically in a span of five minutes, but he wasn’t one to question fate. In the past, when given the choice between business and pleasure, Seth had always chosen business. Duty. Responsibility.
And where had that gotten him other than canned before he’d earned his pension?
Gina? Gina who?