High Seduction (3 page)

Alisha folded her arms. “Don't snap to any final decisions. I mean, Devon makes me crazy at times, but I love the guy, and in the end that's the part that counts. Maybe this Tim of yours screwed up, but it was years ago. People change. Sometimes for the better.”

Erin couldn't argue with logic, but the idea that Tim had changed alarmed her even more. If she'd found it difficult to resist him then, how would she stop herself now?

She chatted with Alisha for a while longer, then found a reason to leave before Devon returned. She couldn't handle any more of the two of them and their perfect, sweet relationship. No matter how vigorous their sex lives, it was still sweet, and Erin needed a dose of
not sweet
.

Good thing she already had plans to deal with that itch.

CHAPTER
3

The rooms he'd rented were large enough Tim should have been unpacking and relaxing, but restlessness dragged him down like the barometer falling before a nor'wester. Seeing Erin had ripped through his hard-fought-for calm more than he'd thought possible, and he took the time to settle himself. To go through his agenda and get back on track.

Working with Marcus's team at Lifeline was only one option. If he got the job, great. If not, his plans still required him to stay in Banff, so he pulled out his phone and started through his contact list.

Jobs were always available if you had the skills and knew where to look.

He left messages with a few people and lined up an interview for the following day. A name went past on his phone as he scrolled through and he paused, wondering if he should bother.

The temptation to track down his old friend was too strong to resist. He put through the call and waited for a response.

“Phillip here.”

“Phillip. Timothy Dextor from St. John's calling. First Street Fire Division. How are you?”

A low laugh carried over the phone. “Timothy. I'm doing well. I haven't seen you in years. Are you in town?”

“I am.”

No hesitation. “If you're free, drop in for a visit. Have you seen the club?”

“Not yet, although I've heard good things.” While Tim didn't plan on being a regular there, curiosity was one thing he rarely resisted. “I would love to join you. What time is good?”

“Come by about eight. I'll leave your name with the doorman.” Phillip paused. “You want to play or watch?”

Tim had no intention to play sexual games with anyone in Banff except Erin. “You can show me around, but I'll be observing.”

“That's fine. Looking forward to seeing you.”

From outside his window a series of coloured flashes shone in and lit the walls. Tim paced over to discover a police cruiser driving slowly past. The blue-and-red lights on the roof reflected off the windows of the second– and third-storey apartments and the ground-level restaurants and shops. People wandered the sidewalks, traces of dirty snow piled to the side along the street edges and stacked waist deep over the grass in the park kitty-corner to his upper-floor suite.

Quiet for a tourist town. It was off-peak season still, and he'd selected a street away from the action, but how peaceful the location was surprised him in a good way. The kind of excitement he was looking for wasn't found in crowded bars. Not anymore.

Time for the next move.

He showered and dressed, tempted to call Erin. Drop by her house and get the next awkward conversation over with. The shock in her eyes upon seeing him had been real, but then so had the desire. There'd been a split second when she'd been unable to hide her body's response, melting into his when he'd pinned her against him.

He would offer his apologies and they would go forward. She was stubborn, but he was, too. She had to fight him and her inner cravings.

That shifted the odds in his favour.

* * *

Erin adjusted her corset one final time and straightened her skirt before heading back into the bar area. The flash of admiration in the familiar bouncer's eyes as she stepped out of the ladies' room settled over her like a soft blanket.

Soothing and comforting. Safe, because she knew he wouldn't attempt to touch her. The sweet taste of power slipped up her spine at the thought, but today instead of continuing to buzz in her veins, unease washed her. Something was off, but she couldn't see a reason why—

Timothy.

Damn him anyway. She eased a hip onto a tall bar stool and smiled across at the owner of the bar-slash-club known as The Wild. “You're pouring drinks, Phillip? Not often I see you back there.”

“It's a special night. I have a guest coming in later, and I want to see his face when he walks in the door.” Phillip moved easily behind the counter, pulling a bottle from the shelf and adding ice to glasses. The gentle clink as they bumped together merged into the soft music playing in the background.

Nothing rowdy or wild here, no matter what the bar's name. Erin liked the place more than the Rose and Crown, where the rest of the Lifeline team tended to hang out on nights off.

It gave her a place of her own. Something different from spending her time working and playing with the team. Because while she admired them and trusted them in the field, this part of her life was her own and she didn't want them mixed in it.

Which made the idea of Tim joining Lifeline all the more dangerous to consider.

Phillip slid a drink toward her, and she accepted it readily. He would give her the usual. Not much alcohol—just enough for the taste—and the rest mix. Not only did she have to keep her wits about her in case she got an emergency call-out, but a place like The Wild was no place to get sloppy.

Drunk was far too uncivilized, and Phillip was all about being proper. About maintaining control, a sentiment she agreed with one hundred percent.

A pair of strangers took the bar stools to her left. The nearest man stared unabashedly down the front of her corset before smiling at her. Erin returned the smile, careful to stay on the edge of inviting. She didn't want to encourage him, but there was no fun snuffing a guy's hopes before he'd even gotten started.

She turned to her host. “A guest who's important enough to make you hit the counter. You have guests all the time. What makes this one special, or do I not want to know?”

Probably something to do with the upper rooms, an area she'd put off limits for herself for so many reasons. Didn't mean Phillip didn't keep trying.

Sure enough, Phillip eyed her closer. “You have a standing invitation to explore.”

Erin tilted her head to the side. “You trying to talk me into walking on the Wild side again, Phil? I do love your determination.” She lifted her glass in salute and turned her back, facing into the room to observe what was happening.

The gathering this evening was smaller than it would be later in the holiday season, but enough people strolled the bar to make watching interesting. Dancing, flirting, mischief—a little of everything.

More than a few eyes turned her direction, gazes lingering on her legs, her breasts. She would readily admit she enjoyed being admired, but there was nothing else to entice her tonight to do more than observe the crowd.

The man to her right leaned in closer. “Can I buy you a drink?”

She indicated her glass. “Already have one, thanks.”

He held his beer bottle in the air to match hers. “Then, bottoms up.”

The guy was so darn earnest Erin wanted to laugh, at least until he snuck a hand around her uninvited, talking loudly as he introduced himself.

Erin glanced wordlessly at Phillip.

Phillip motioned with his head, and a moment later a bouncer was there, gently guiding her next-door drinker and his buddy to a private table. The offer of preferential treatment distracted them even as they were conducted away.

Erin leaned on the bar, amused by the interaction. “Am I causing problems, Phillip?” she asked.

He shrugged. “You would enjoy yourself a lot more upstairs than down here pushing my patrons' buttons for whatever small edge it knocks off your itch.”

The judgmental assessment was unexpected. She twisted on her stool and took him in, his unreadable eyes examining her silently until she had to look away. “My body, my choice.”

There was nothing she could say more powerful—that they'd established the first time he'd proposed she might like to join the private section of his club. She knew what went on upstairs. Knew it too well, and had rejected it thoroughly.

Timothy.

The fact that she'd chosen to come here tonight of all nights suddenly disgusted her. Another example of her having lost her spine the instant the man stepped into her territory.

This had been a bad idea from the start. She picked up her purse. “Thanks for the drink. I think I'll call it a night.”

Phillip's classic control wavered. “But you just—” He glanced over her shoulder, and his expression broke into a smile. “—must meet someone before you go.”

Out of nowhere a sense of complete dread struck. What were the odds? How was it possible? But she was nearly positive before she'd seen the proof.

Her bar stool was slowly rotated until she looked into the deepest of sky-blue eyes matched by the sexiest smile.

“Of all the gin joints, right?” Tim drawled. “You're looking lovely, kitten.”

A shiver rolled up her arm as he took her hand and delicately lifted it to his lips. When he paused, waiting for permission, she knew what she had to say. What she had to do.

Get the hell out of there. Run. Hide. Do anything but dip her chin slightly and give the man permission.

She should have known he couldn't simply arrive and throw her world into a whirlwind. The dark blue dress shirt he wore lay open at the collar, the colour complementing his deep tan. The scruff that had covered his chin earlier in the day was shaved clean, so clean she wanted to rub against his skin to test the satiny smoothness. His hair was slightly unruly as if he'd recently dragged a hand through it, or crawled out of bed after hours of sweaty sex . . .

. . . and this was not where she wanted her brain to go. Not really. Tim didn't help her stick to platonic thoughts, though, as he slowly rotated her hand until her palm lay upward. Then he gently kissed the inside of her wrist.

There was no way anyone could have missed her reaction. The entire damn bar might have shaken along with her body.

“I take it you two know each other?” Phillip didn't try to hide his amusement.

Tim didn't let her go, but simply answered the question without taking his gaze from where it was fixed on Erin's face. “We've met a time or two.”

“I was just inviting Erin to come upstairs for a visit.” It was clear Phillip was delighted by the turn of events. “Perhaps you can entice her to join us.”

Erin reached deep and broke the spell Timothy was weaving. She shifted until she slid off the stool, her high-heeled boots landing on either side of his leg. The bare skin of her inner thighs brushed roughly against the stiff fabric of his dark black jeans.

“Thanks, but you'll have to take Tim for a tour on your own.” She stepped around him, ignoring the urge to rub wantonly. There was only one solution to the situation. Diversion and distraction. “I have someone waiting for me.”

* * *

Tim twisted to watch as she worked her way across the floor to where a couple of men were seated in a private booth.

“Well done,” Phillip goaded him. “I've never seen anyone get her feathers ruffled in that short a time before.”

Tim ignored the rebuke and focused on the priorities. “Does she know them?”

“No.”

Great. He'd pushed her into someone else's arms for the night. He fought the grumble of possessiveness that suggested he storm across the room and relocate the man's nose up his ass. Erin slipped onto the seat next to one stranger and cozied in tight.

Tim deliberately faced Phillip. “Erin's a regular, then. Does she ever play?”

The other man shook his head. “Told me she wasn't interested in anything more than people watching and enjoying what she could safely get down here. I enjoy having her around, and the locals like her. She's smart and sassy, and doesn't take shit from anyone.”

“But she never goes upstairs, and she never goes home with anyone,” Tim guessed.

“You're good,” Phillip admitted. “No. Most locals come for the views and the drinks, not the entertainment offered upstairs.”

A sense of something he could have called happiness hit Tim hard at the news that Erin wasn't a regular among The Wild's more specific clientele. “I'll take a pass on the tour tonight.”

Phillip smiled shrewdly. “You staying in town, then?”

“I'll be around. Don't know if I'll be doing more than stopping for a drink.”

His friend's gaze surveyed the main bar again, lingering where Erin was located. “If you're planning on getting involved with her, I can see your sense of danger hasn't diminished over the years.”

Tim tipped his head slightly. “It's not about the risk, Phillip. She's the one that got away, and I intend to fix my mistakes, for both our sakes.”

“Good luck with that.” Phillip gestured toward the room. “Your mark is leaving.”

Tim slipped a business card over the counter toward his friend. “Get in touch. We'll have dinner and get caught up for real. Excuse me while I run.”

Phillip took the card with a laugh. “You're not going to be simply running, my friend. I hope you're ready for an all-out sprint.”

By the time Tim twisted toward where he'd last seen Erin, she'd made it to the door. One of the men from the table had an arm tucked around her as he attempted to help her one-handed with her wrap.