Dare to Lie Read online

But did.

  CHAPTER 3

  SCOTTY

  Settling in on a bar stool, I lifted my old-fashioned to my lips and watched Skylar. For some reason, I couldn’t stop. There was something about her, about the way she held herself, that threw me. I was good at figuring out people’s motives. It was my thing. It kept me alive out there when it came to deciding to calmly talk to someone, or if pulling the trigger would keep me breathing instead. But with Skylar . . .

  I couldn’t get a read on her.

  Part of me thought the whole sweet-sorority-girl thing was all an act, and the other half almost believed it was the truth. But then she stared at me from across the room, basically daring me to take on the enigma that was Skylar Daniels, and I was sure there was no way in hell she was for real. Not when she looked at me like she wanted to strip my clothes off, which made me want to do things I shouldn’t be thinking about. Not when it came to Tate’s baby sister.

  Damn her.

  And damn the soft curves that had pressed against me so perfectly.

  I didn’t normally get this kind of reaction from girls like her, but then again, I wasn’t dressed like the guy I really was. Tonight I played a different kind of game and wore a suit instead of a leather jacket. I was used to playing a part, pretending to be someone I wasn’t. Right now, I was a DEA agent, pretending to be a loyal gang member, pretending to be an intern, pretending to be a good guy who hadn’t just been in a deadly shoot-out.

  It was almost too much, even for me.

  My phone dinged, and I pulled it out of my pocket. It was a text from Chris.

  Everything okay?

  I quickly typed: Yes. I’m at a country club, wearing a suit, and trying to deal with Tate’s baby sister, but besides that, I’m fine. I’d told him about her existence before I left the funeral.

  Is she hot?

  I took a sip of my drink. I could feel her watching me, but I didn’t look. Yes.

  Dammmmn.

  Setting my empty drink down, I typed: What?

  Don’t do it.

  I glanced her way, and sure enough, she was watching me. Instead of turning away when I caught her, she crossed her arms and gave me a tight smile. She was begging me to engage with her. She was in over her head, and had no clue. I gave her my back and typed: I won’t. I’m not that stupid. I’ll text you when I’m out of here safely.

  Stay smart.

  I thought of Skylar, and those long, long legs of hers . . . that I wouldn’t be touching. Forcing my mind off her, I quickly typed: Always.

  As I tucked my phone away, the music stopped playing and Skylar’s voice echoed over the room. “Hello. First off, before I hand the mic off to our auctioneer and we start with the fun we have planned for the night, I wanted a chance to thank each and every one of you for coming here tonight to support our charity. Without you, we wouldn’t be able to make sure the underprivileged children in the poorer parts of our city have access to the medical care they so desperately need. Because of you, they won’t suffer in silence anymore.”

  Jesus. These preppies thought they could save the kids of Southie with free checkups and vaccinations? Hell, I’d been trying to make Southie better for five years now, and all I’d accomplished so far was a few bullet holes in my body. I held my empty old-fashioned up to the bartender, who nodded and immediately started making me a new one.

  I’d need it to get through tonight.

  Another man in a suit sidled up next to me. “Too bad they’re not auctioning her off tonight, huh? I’d pay for the chance to spend a few hours with her. I love redheads.”

  “Yeah. Too damn bad.” I grabbed my drink, tossed down a twenty, and turned back to Skylar, watching her as she smiled down at the crowd like a goddamn princess. I didn’t point out that her hair was more strawberry blonde than red. “What’s her deal, anyway? Is she as squeaky clean as she seems?”

  “More so.” The man leaned on the bar, sighing. “She’s untouchable.”

  “Oh, I doubt that.” She’d seemed pretty damn touchable earlier. Maybe that was why I couldn’t shake the attraction I felt to her. Before I’d known who she was, I’d held her in my arms and discovered just how perfectly she fit against me. “You ever meet her brother?”

  “Yeah, he’s some big-shot CEO. Came up from nothing and thinks he’s a king now.” He tugged on his tie, still watching Skylar. I didn’t like the look in his eye. He stared at her as if he’d like to climb up on that stage, throw her over his shoulder, and stalk off with her. That shouldn’t bother me . . . but it did. “Does a lot of charity work, too, like her. I heard he anonymously backed a community center for underprivileged kids recently.”

  I choked on my drink, because Chris had secretly started up that community center—and he’d received a big chunk of money from an anonymous party. Tate. What kind of Alice in Wonderland world did I fall into when I walked through these doors? “If it was a secret, how do you know about it?”

  “A buddy of mine told me.” The man rubbed his hands together. “He works at the bank Daniels uses.”

  I didn’t say anything else.

  Skylar continued. “As we welcome the men on stage, I ask that you check them out and decide who you’d like to bid on. Be warned, though,” she said, smiling angelically. Locking eyes with me, she lifted her glass of champagne and said, “A few of us girls intend to bid tonight, too. So you’ll have competition.”

  The college girls chuckled in the corner as the older women smiled and nodded in approval. I stiffened. Why the hell was she staring at me? I was the last guy she should be picking to go on a date with tonight. “Shit.”

  The man next to me whistled through his teeth, and looked at me. As she continued moving into the crowd, he asked, “What did you say your name was again?”

  “I didn’t,” I growled, tossing back the rest of my drink.

  If she bid on me, and I had to go on a date with her . . .

  Tate would literally kill me.

  “Can the bachelors please come up?” another woman asked, stepping up to the mic nervously. “Once they’re all in place, we’ll begin the bidding.”

  We all filed up there like soldiers falling in line behind their commanding officer, me behind the dickwad from earlier. As we stood there, looking out at the crowd of women, I glanced at Skylar—and she smirked at me.

  Motherfucking smirked.

  Gritting my teeth, I offered the rest of the audience a charming smile. I knew how to work a crowd—I’d been doing it since I was old enough to understand what manipulation was, before I even knew how to spell the word. Lucas always said I could charm the panties off a nun, if I put my mind to it, and I’d lived up to those expectations my whole damn life.

  Today would be no different.

  I searched the crowd until I found my perfect mark, settling on a woman with dark brown hair, strands of gray peppered throughout. She smiled at me, fingering her pearls, and I winked back. She laughed and sipped her champagne, glancing away flirtatiously. Judging from the Gucci dress and Louis Vuitton bag hanging off her arm, she would be bidding a lot to bring me home. If Skylar thought she was going to win a date with me easily, she was in for a rude awakening.

  I couldn’t afford to be tempted . . .

  And she wouldn’t be able to afford me by the time this was over.

  The woman glanced at me again, and I smoothed my jacket over my abs, shooting her a sexy smirk. She flushed like a schoolgirl, just as I expected. She wanted a younger man to pay attention to her, to make her feel desirable, and I could absolutely give that to her.

  She was much safer than Skylar. I didn’t mess with people I couldn’t read, and Skylar was like a foreign language to me.

  One by one, men were auctioned off like cattle, and I found myself cursing Tate Daniels for sending me here. Out of all the shitty things he’d done to me, and around me, this was pre
tty much the worst. I’d rather be shot and gutted than wait to be bought. Dickwad went for a few hundred dollars to one of Skylar’s blushing friends, and he walked down the stairs to join her.

  Which left . . . me.

  Smiling at me as if she heard my thoughts, Skylar crossed her arms as the woman running the show walked to the mic. “And now, for our last auction, we have Scotty Donahue. He’s an intern at a big firm in the city, and he’s also a grad student. We’ll start the bidding at fifty dollars.”

  The college girl auctioning me off paused, and I gritted my teeth, watching the thinned-out crowd. The lady I’d winked at came through. She lifted a hand regally. I smiled at her.

  “Do I have seventy-five?” the girl asked.

  Another woman to the left raised her hand. She was brunette, and only a few years older than me. Pretty, too. I perked up, smiling at her, too, and tugged on my jacket.

  “One hundred? I see here that Mr. Donahue enjoys long walks on the beach and fine dining. If you win a date with him, he’s also a good dancer.”

  Skylar grandly raised a hand.

  I stiffened, forcing my attention from the brunette in the corner. I frowned at Skylar, shaking my head slightly in a silent warning. She didn’t want to play this game. Not when she had no idea what she was getting—a killer who would eat her up in one swallow if she wasn’t careful. If she persisted on pursuing me, I’d give her exactly what she asked for.

  Trouble.

  “Mr. Donahue also enjoys opera music and Broadway musicals in his spare time. Do I have one twenty-five?”

  The older woman lifted her hand, and so did the pretty brunette.

  I smiled at both of them.

  Skylar smiled icily and called out, “I bid one seventy-five.”

  I didn’t smile at her.

  It went on like this a few times, the bidding climbing higher and higher, and Skylar not backing down. Luckily, neither did the other two women. The rest of the crowd watched as the numbers climbed with rapid succession, and I laughed uneasily, rubbing the back of my neck. I lifted an arm and flexed a bicep playfully for the brunette, and the crowd cheered with excitement as the brunette’s eyes heated with desire. This date was in the bag.

  Skylar gave me the side-eye, watching me as I flirted. Lifting her chin, she smiled, raised her hand, and called out, “I bid one thousand dollars for Scotty.”

  The crowd gasped. That was a jump of a few hundred dollars, and no one else had done that for any of the other men.

  “Is that allowed?” the older woman asked, frowning. “Aren’t you in charge of this event?”

  “I am, but I don’t think anyone will argue over money going to a charity for a good cause, will they?” the girl at the mic asked sweetly, smiling. “I mean, that’s why we’re all here, right?”

  “I . . .” The older woman scowled. “No, of course not.”

  The auctioneer smiled, then said, “Does anyone else object?”

  No one spoke.

  “All right, then, the bid stands. One thousand dollars.”

  The old lady huffed, and turned away, clearly giving up.

  Damn it.

  “Fuck me,” I muttered, turning to the brunette hopefully, shrugging my jacket off to give her another glimpse of the goods.

  She opened her mouth, closed it, and shook her head once.

  “Shit,” I growled under my breath.

  Skylar’s eyes sparkled with excitement, and victory.

  The girl at the mic called out, “One thousand going once . . . twice . . . sold, to Skylar Daniels.”

  I fisted my hands. Tate Daniels’s blood money had just bought his little sister a date with me. Forcing a calm smile, I went over to the stairs, walked right up to Skylar, and shoved my hands into my pockets as I approached. The second I was in front of her, I leaned down and whispered, “You have no idea who you’re messing with, sugar.”

  She cast a quick glance at me, her breath quickening. “Oh, I beg to differ. I know exactly who I’m messing with. The question is, can you say the same about me?”

  No. And that’s what I didn’t like. “Yeah. I know what you are.”

  “Good. Then there’s no confusion or miscommunications.” With a flutter of her lashes, she turned, plastering a sweet smile on for everyone else as she went up onstage again. Stopping in front of the mic, she said, “Thank you for participating, and for your generosity, all for a good cause. The children and their parents thank you.”

  Applause broke out, and her grin widened as she came back down the stairs. I watched, my heart pounding, as she turned to me, holding her hand out. “Let’s go pay, and then we’re going out somewhere a little more . . . private. Maybe to one of those fancy restaurants you like so much.”

  Greeeeaaaat. I didn’t move. Just frowned at her outstretched hand, gritting my teeth until my jaw ached. “Why did you bid on me?”

  “You intrigue me.” She shrugged. “I want to know more about you.”

  “I work for your brother, and he’ll kill me if he finds out I went out with you, so I know everything I need to know about you already.” I gave her a smirk, instinctively knowing it would piss her off. “You’re a spoiled rich girl who’s used to getting what she wants, and who is in for a rude awakening because I’m not the type of guy to give girls like you what they want.”

  Her nostrils flared. “That only makes me more interested in you.”

  I tensed. “Why?”

  “Because Tate’s always throwing his coworkers at me, and they’re as dreadfully dull as he is.” She stepped closer, resting her hand over my heart. Reaching up on tiptoe, she whispered into my ear, “Knowing you’re off-limits just makes you sexier, because I’m that kind of girl. So keep telling me how bad for me you are. I’ll eat it up, sugar.”

  She thought she liked bad boys. She had no idea what a bad boy really was. “You’re so naïve to think that you can take on a guy like me and walk away unscathed.”

  “And you’re naïve if you think I’m so easily scared off,” she said, laughing and giving me a once-over. “Guess that makes us a good match.”

  Skylar and I were not in any way, shape, or form . . .

  A good fucking match.

  I’d become a DEA agent to try to make the world a better place, to try to make Steel Row clean again, to atone for being the reason behind Lucas’s actions. Everything my brother had done was to support me after Ma died. His descent into hell had been all my fault—and as such, it was my job to fix it. In doing so, I couldn’t afford to get tangled up with a gang boss’s sister.

  That was simple fact.

  I snorted. “You have no idea what I do—”

  “Sure I do. You’re a college student interning at my brother’s company.” She flipped her long strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder. “Ooooh. Wow. So dangerous.”

  I bit my tongue. Damn Tate and his stupid cover. If I’d been able to make my own, then I would have made it something a little more edgy than marketing. Like . . . shit, I don’t know. An MMA fighter or something. “My job isn’t my whole life. I don’t live at the office. Besides, how could you possibly recognize true danger, being locked up in your ivory tower all the time?”

  She stiffened. “My brother, for all his faults, is hands down the most overprotective brother to ever walk the earth. He won’t even leave me alone with people I’ve known my whole life, let alone someone I just met. Therefore, if you are soooo bad that you would ruin me with a simple touch . . .” She leaned in, her cheeks flushing prettily. “Why are you here, alone with me, right now?”

  Damn it, I had no answer for her, because I didn’t know why, or even why Tate trusted me. If he was always throwing clean, wholesome men at Skylar, why didn’t he send one of them to this black tie event, instead of a gang member? Some of us were on the books at the firm, to look legit for the IRS and feds, b
ut there were real employees there, too, who had no idea what their boss did when he wasn’t in his office. There had to be a reason he’d chosen me, instead of one of those clean employees, to be at his sister’s side.

  And I had a feeling, whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

  CHAPTER 4

  SKYLAR

  Two hours after I won Scotty for the night, we left the country club. I’d had to finish up at the gala before we could slip away. While I was making sure every winner paid before leaving with their bachelors, Scotty had stood in the corner of the room, frowning and occasionally taking a sip of his drink.

  Now that we were alone at my favorite restaurant, I was no closer to discovering who and what Scotty Donahue really was, and quite frankly? I no longer cared.

  Apparently my sixth sense had failed me this time, because Scotty Donahue was as empty as a bag of air. He was closemouthed, borderline rude, and he refused to give me any information on himself, no matter how creatively I asked.

  He had successfully bored me to death.

  Lifting my wine, I took a big swallow of the Shiraz I’d ordered for us before setting the glass down, internally rolling my eyes. We were at L’Espalier, a French restaurant in Boston. There were white tablecloths on every table, and beige fabric covered the lights overhead, creating a romantic ambience with candlelight, good wine, better food. It was the perfect atmosphere for easy conversations, which were happening all around us.

  At every table but ours.

  “So, how many months have you been at my brother’s company?” I asked hesitantly, knowing it was useless.

  “Ten.”

  I pressed my lips together. “Sounds nice. Would you like to know what I’m going to school for?”

  He cocked a brow at me. “No.”

  “I’m in medical school.”

  He nodded. “Cool.”

  “I’ll probably specialize in pediatrics. I’m good at reading people, so I think that’ll come in handy with uncooperative teenagers, or babies who can’t speak yet.”