Hard to Fight - Bella Jewel Page 0,11

big case, Dad,” I announce over the phone later that night.

My dad has always supported me, and I think he’s been waiting as patiently as I have for this day to come along.

“Princess, that’s incredible!” he practically croons over the phone. There are times I think Daddy Dearest has forgotten I’m not five anymore.

“It’s exactly what I’ve been waiting for, but I’m nervous,” I admit.

“Don’t be,” he says. “You’re amazing. You learned from the best, after all.”

I laugh. “Sure, Dad—I mean, how could I not be awesome following in your supercool footsteps?”

He chuckles. “Exactly. Besides, my girl can kick ass.” There we go, he’s remembered I’m all grown up now.

“Damn right I can.”

“So how big are we talking?” I hear the flick of a cigarette lighter.

“Dad, stop smoking. It’ll kill you.”

“Next week, baby.” He says that every week. “Now, tell me about this case,” he prompts.

“Okay, well, it’s a thirty-thousand-dollar one, for starters.”

“Shit,” he breathes. “It is a big one.”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

He scoffs. “Baby, it is.”

I smile, he’s so right. “It is.”

“What’s your plan?”

I flush. I’m hardly about to tell my father how I plan to bring Raide in. “I’m still going over it.”

“Let me give you some tips.”

I spend the next hour listening to Dad’s great tips before ending the phone call and heading off to bed. I have one more day left before the fun starts.

I need my beauty sleep.

Chapter Four

I yawn and stretch as I step out of work the following evening. I’m supposed to be heading over to my parents’ house to see my dad and talk about my new case, but I’m exhausted. I know, however, that if I don’t show, he’ll be disappointed—so with effort, I lift a hand and flag a cab. A loud crack of thunder echoes in the distance, and I know that any moment now, it’s going to rain.

I’m right: just as a cab comes to a stop beside the curb, the clouds open up and rain starts pattering down. I throw myself toward the car, swinging the door open and diving inside before I end up with a messy hair job that is impossible to fix. What I don’t notice on my little dive to protect myself is that someone has already gotten into this cab.

“This is my cab.”

I turn with a squeal, and then my mouth drops open as I see Raide staring at me, arms crossed, amber eyes studying me. He’s wearing a pair of black jeans and a seriously tight gray sweater that does some seriously amazing things to his muscles. I swallow the thick lump that rises in my throat. It should be enough of a crime that he looks like that.

“Ah, I…”

Real classy, Grace.

“Do I know you?”

Say what? He doesn’t remember me. Well, that’s just a big old slap in the face, isn’t it? Because of that comment alone, I lean back in the seat, cross my arms and mutter, “This is my cab.”

He grunts. “Lady, it isn’t.”

I smirk at him. “Man, it is.”

“Fuck me,” he mutters. “Well, we’re sharing, then.”

My mind whirls, knowing this is my golden opportunity to seduce him, though we didn’t exactly start off on the best foot. Plus, if he figures out what I’m up to, he’ll probably hit me over the head and bury me in a shallow grave. I bite my lip pensively and he turns to stare at me some more. How did I forget how beautiful he is? It’s always the beautiful ones who are so deadly.

“You sure I haven’t met you before? Your face seems familiar … though I’ve seen a lot of faces in the last month.” He grins, staring at my lips now.

Wow, he’s still as arrogant as he was the day I met him. Not to mention it’s clear I made a massive impression on him … not. How am I expected to seduce him when I can’t even get him to remember my face? I need to pick up my game. Fast.

“Probably in your wildest imagination.” I flash a flirtatious grin at him. “That happens a lot.”

His lip quirks and he leans back in the seat, crossing his arms. “I only go for blondes.”

Ouch.

“Yeah, well, I only go for men with—” I look him up and down. “—big—” His face grows lusty. “—personalities.”

He chuckles softly and I want to close my eyes and pray to the high heavens to make him sound like a wheezing man with bronchitis instead of the gorgeous, masculine one he sounds like.

“I’m up