The Trouble With Temptation (Second Service Book 3)

“All right,” he said. “I’ll go with you.”

Morgan’s shoulders relaxed as she let out a long rush of air.

For a minute there she wasn’t sure that she was going to get through to him. Gregg’s selfishness could be legendary, but she’d bet everything that there was still some good left in him. Thank God, she’d been right.

And it hadn’t even been that hard. They’d had worse fights over smaller problems. Deep down. He had to know the trouble he was already in.

“You’re making the right decision,” she said.

Gregg didn’t look up at her as he went to the safe. He kept his eyes straight ahead as he punched in the numbers and threw open the door, his face an emotionless mask.

“It’s not like you’re giving me any choice,” he said as he turned around with the accounting books clutched in his hands. His mouth was a taut, flat line.

He was angry with her. Morgan hadn’t expected anything less. But she couldn’t help but feel a surge of relief that once this was all over they would both still be alive to repair their relationship.

Now she only had to worry about dealing with Ty once he realized what she’d done without him. She could only hope that the result would soothe his injured pride.

“Still, thank you for trusting me,” she said.

Gregg’s gaze flashed to the floor again.

“Let’s get this over with,” he said, brushing past her and into the hall.

Morgan rushed to catch up.

“I know you’re mad at me, and I know that you’re worried,” she said, falling into step beside him. “But everything is going to work out. I prom—”

The words jammed up in her throat as Gregg opened the back door and Morgan came face to face with Evgeni Barinov. There were two other men with him, both in dark suits, both staring daggers at her.

“Sorry, sis.” Gregg walked down the steps and stood behind the row of men. “But like I said, you didn’t give me any choice.”

Morgan’s mouth fell open. She gave Gregg one last pleading look. It was true that he could be a selfish jerk sometimes, but he was still her brother. She’d sacrificed so much for him. He couldn’t throw her over to the Bratva. He just couldn’t.

Gregg’s gaze slid to the pavement.

Apparently, he could.

“It’s all there,” Gregg said, handing the books over to Barinov. “Everything you wanted.”

“Gregg—” Morgan tried in vain as the mobster tucked them into a metal briefcase. She closed her eyes as it clicked shut.

There went her chance of saving her brother. Or herself, for that matter.

She was standing in front of a virtual firing squad. And there was no ex-special forces hero to save her this time.

And she wasn’t the only one who knew it either.

Morgan’s eyes clashed with Barinov’s. A slow, calculated smile spread across his face.

“And it looks like you’ve brought us a little something extra as well, Mr. Kincaid,” he said in a heavily-accented voice.

“I found her inside,” her brother mumbled, too cowardly to look at her face as he threw her to the lions. “I didn’t know she’d be here.”

“What an unexpected treat,” Barinov said. He took a step toward her, and Morgan reflexively moved back. But the mobster was quicker. His hand shot out and brutally bit into her arm, holding her still. “You’ve been a hard girl to catch, Miss Kincaid.”

Morgan slid her hand into her pocket, going for Ty’s gun. She knew she didn’t have a chance in hell of shooting her way out of this mess, but there would be some satisfaction in taking a couple of these guys down with her.

Unfortunately, her inexperience showed. The Russian read her intentions easily enough and wrenched the pistol out of her hand before Morgan even had it all the way out of Ty’s jacket pocket.

“I’ll take that,” Barinov said, tucking the gun into the back waistband of his pants. “I would hate for you to accidentally hurt yourself before we get where we’re going.”

Morgan swallowed down past the massive lump in her throat.

Where they were going?

“What?” Morgan lifted her chin and faked all the bravado she could. “You’re not just going to shoot me right here?”

The shake in her voice betrayed her, and she ended up sounding more relieved than anything. It was far more truthful.

If they weren’t going to kill her right away, then she still had a chance of escaping. A slight one sure—practically nonexistent—but a chance all the same.

“Don’t tell me you’re impatient,” Barinov whispered harshly in her ear. He pulled her down the steps and into the alleyway then over to the black sedan that was parked in the middle.

“Never,” Morgan said between gritted teeth.

The Russian yanked open the back door of the car and looked at Gregg.

“You will join us, Mr. Kincaid,” he commanded.

“W-why?” Gregg asked.

“Because I told you to.”

The satisfaction Morgan felt at seeing her brother’s face drain of color was short-lived. She had a terrible feeling she knew why they both were getting into the car.

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