Desperate Measures (Men in Uniform #1) Read online

  “Thank you.”

  My chest tightened. I was walking into a situation without knowing exactly what to expect. I’d seen too many incidents that initially appeared innocent go the wrong way fast. The elevator moved quickly, and in less than a minute, the door opened. I kept my guard up as I headed down the short corridor slowly. My senses were on high alert.

  Then I heard a woman’s scream that sent a jolt right through me. I used the key the guard had given me and quietly opened the door with my gun drawn. I saw nothing but desks and mannequins as I made my way through the middle of the space. There was some noise coming from the back of the office. It sounded like ruffling papers.

  She was definitely in there, but was she alone? The scream suggested otherwise. The door was open, but I couldn’t see inside. I tip-toed toward the entryway, sticking close to the wall.

  Once I reached the door frame, I raised my gun and rushed inside.

  Chapter Three - Sloane Ardent

  “What are you doing in here?” A deep voice asked.

  I jolted to my feet.

  A man stood beneath the door frame flashing a badge in one hand, and a gun in the other. He wore dark jeans and a black shirt that revealed a thick, muscular build. Certainly not what I expected a cop to wear. “If you’re an officer, where’s your police uniform?”

  “I’m a detective, Ms. Ardent.” He moved closer so I could read his badge. “I don’t wear a uniform.”

  He was a cop, but where had he come from? Was he in the building and heard me scream? As my nerves ran wild, I took him in. He had to be in his mid to late twenties. His hair was a warm chestnut brown, and looked a bit scruffy like he was overdue for a cut. He had bulging arm muscles that matched his broad chest and shoulders. The stubble along his strong jawline gave his appearance a bit of grit.

  “What are you doing in here?” he repeated, gruffly.

  My nipples tightened, and I’d wanted to smack myself. This detective might’ve witnessed what I had done, and could arrest me on the spot. I should’ve been trying to come up with a good story, but instead, I was checking him out. In my defense, he was the sexiest cop I’d ever seen. But that raspy, commanding voice was really what had done me in. I was tempted to give him some attitude just to see what he’d do. What the hell was wrong with me?

  “I came here to look at this dress.” I pointed to what I was wearing. “Julian, the designer who rents this office, made it for me.”

  He glanced down at the torn fabric on the floor. “It looks like you’ve made some adjustments.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Trust me, it’s an improvement.”

  “And what about the files and paperwork all over the floor?” he questioned. “Did you do that?”

  “I was just about to put those back when you walked in,” I replied in a sweet tone. “It’s really no big deal, Officer.”

  “It’s Detective, Ms. Ardent.” He corrected, gripping something on the side of his leather belt. “And the damage to the dress. Is that a big deal to you?”

  This conversation was going south in a big way. If I wasn’t careful, I could end up getting arrested, which was the absolute worst thing that could happen to me. I had to come up with a good excuse and fast.

  “I know what this looks like,” I said, waving my hands in front of me. “But really, it’s just a misunderstanding.”

  “In the eyes of the law, we call it destruction of property.” He reached for his handcuffs. “Which means you’re under arrest.”

  Wow. I had really gotten myself into deep shit this time. Had he really planned to cuff me and put in the back of a police car? I wiggled the keys in front of him. “I didn’t break in here.”

  “Put your palms flat on the desk,” he replied, firmly.

  This couldn’t happen. Not with the Oscars only two weeks away. “Detective—”

  “Five seconds.”

  I startled.

  Okay, this detective wasn’t trying to hear anything I had to say. Time to try another route. “This is bullshit.” I argued. “Do you hear any alarms going off? No. That means you don’t have the right to be here.” I pointed toward the door. “So why don’t you make your way back down the elevator and I’ll forget the whole thing.”

  “Hands on the desk,” he snarled. “Now.”

  “Do you know who I am?” I shrieked, refusing to do as he crudely ordered.

  Grabbing my wrists, he forced me into the position he wanted. “You can fill me in on the ride to the station.”

  “I’m Sloane Ardent.” I tried to push him away, but his grip was too strong.

  “I don’t care,” he hissed, positioning himself behind me.

  “I’m a fucking movie star,” I screamed. I’d never played the celebrity card before, but I was way past desperate.

  He patted me down. “You have the right to remain silent—”

  My entire body tensed. There was no way out of this. I was going to be arrested. The media would be all over this and I’d be ruined. My career was over. What could I do? I had tried everything. Or, had I? Maybe I just needed to explain what happened. When he started to pat me down, I said, “Okay, look, I know I screwed up here, but this really isn’t necessary. Can’t we just talk for a second?”

  He used his foot to spread my legs further apart. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just stated to you?”

  God, this was it. If I didn’t do something drastic, my career was over. But what did I have to barter with? He wasn’t budging even an inch. Maybe I needed to do more than just talk. Maybe a little flirting might lighten the situation. Really, what did I have to lose? I pressed my back against his chest, rubbing my ass against his crotch. “I’m really cold in this tiny little dress,” I said, in a sultry tone. “Think you could help a girl out?”

  “That’s not going to work,” he replied, with no emotion in his tone.

  “What’s not going to work?” I asked, gazing up at him. Our lips were only inches apart. “What do you think I’m trying to do, Detective?”

  He squeezed my biceps. “Enough.”

  When he didn’t back away, a ping of hope fluttered in my chest. I had to keep going but I didn’t feel good about it. I’d never used my sexuality to get anything in this town and I was proud of that. But this situation was dire. Even if it felt low, I had to go there just this once. I’d do anything to avoid getting arrested.

  I removed my hand from the desk and placed it over the bulge in his pants. Damn, he was huge. It had been so long since I’d been with a man. Being this close made my thighs quiver. I stroked him methodically. “Maybe I can help you relax a little and we can talk this out.”

  He tensed. “Quit it.”

  His words came out like a strangled moan. God, that deep voice. In an instant, all the guilt I’d felt just moments ago was replaced by aching need. “I don’t think you want me to stop.”

  Slowly, I ran my palm up and down his length. My head was leaning against his chest, and I inhaled the scent of his woodsy cologne. He was breathing heavily, almost panting, but he didn’t make a sound. He just stood there like a statue as I stroked him. I closed my eyes, and imagined his thick cock inside of me. There was no doubt he’d fill me to the hilt. Wetness coated my panties. I was so close to an orgasm.

  I heard the click of his handcuffs and jolted out of my sexual haze. “What are you doing,” I squealed.

  “You just assaulted a cop, Ms. Ardent.” Pressing his hand against my lower back, he led me out of Julian’s office. “I hope you have a good lawyer.”

  “Please, Detective,” I begged, tears lining my eyes. “I’ve never done anything like this. I was just desperate. I can’t get arrested. The press will ruin me. I swear, I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. This whole night has been one big mistake.”

  He didn’t respond.

  I continued to plead
with him as we headed toward the elevators. Once inside, I tried to turn around to face him, but he held me in place. The doors opened with a ding. As we made our way through the lobby, I was relieved to see the night guard wasn’t at his post. That meant no one would see me leaving the building handcuffed and call the paparazzi. I got a chill as we stepped outside. What was left of this gown wasn’t doing anything to keep me warm. But there was no sense in bringing it up. It was clear he was done talking.

  We walked down the darkened road for about a block. He was heading toward an older model Ford Explorer with a few dings on the doors. No surprise, he drove an unmarked police vehicle. Maybe he was some kind of undercover detective. He opened the back door and helped me into the seat. I’d expected the inside to be reeking of donuts and stale coffee, but instead, I discovered the interior was pristine. Not a mark or spec of dirt anywhere in sight. Even the leather seats appeared brand new.

  As we rode toward the police station, I sobbed.

  This was all my fault. If I’d controlled my temper, none of this would’ve happened. Julian was going to find out what I did and blackball me. No other designers would even consider dressing me. And that wasn’t even the worst of it. I’d assaulted a police officer. Resisted arrest. Made sexual advances on him. Any one of those things could earn me real jail time. And even if he dropped those charges, the media would be all over it. Forget about the Oscars, I’d be lucky if I got another acting job. I’d thrown away my entire career in one night.

  Glancing at the rear view mirror, I realized he was watching me. “What happened tonight?”

  His words startled me. “Now you want to hear what I have to say?”

  “I won’t ask again.”

  “Julian promised me a beautiful dress for the Oscars.” I glanced down at the remains of what he’d created. “I’d gone his office to look at it, but as you can see, it’s beyond horrible. No actress would ever wear something like this to such a prestigious ceremony.”

  “This was nothing more than a dispute over a dress?” he chuckled. “That’s why you tore up his property?”

  “It wasn’t just about the dress,” I snapped. “I’d gone through weeks of hell dealing with him. He’s the one who should be going to jail.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, in an elevated tone. “Did he do something to you?”

  “You mean besides repeatedly grope me, harass me, and try to get me to sleep with him?” I rolled my eyes in disgust. “Trust me, he’s one of the biggest assholes in this town.”

  In a stern tone, he asked, “Have you filed charges against this guy?”

  “No one would dare turn him in. He’s an A-list designer with connections all over Hollywood.” A knot formed in my throat, and I swallowed it down. “It would be career suicide.”

  “Are you saying he’s harassed other actresses as well?”

  “Models, actresses. You name it,” I replied. “And I know of a few personally that were treated way worse. But none of them would even consider contacting the police.”

  “How bad?”

  I thought about Kristi. It had been almost a year since it all went down. I’d never forget how her body shook as she explained the details. She’d met him for drinks at a popular bar. She’d swore she only had one martini, but felt almost instantly drunk. Hours had passed that she still couldn’t remember, but she had flashes of memory, like her limbs feeling too heavy to lift, being carried to a hotel room, having her clothes removed, feeling the weight of him on top of her. And, of course, waking up naked next to him. “Rape.”

  There was a long silence.

  When we reached a red light, he turned around. His emerald green eyes bore into mine with such intensity it warmed my skin. “I want names.”

  “I told you.” Tears ran down my cheeks as I spoke. “It’s a lost cause.”

  “Listen, Ms. Ardent, I’ve been a detective for ten years and I’ve seen a lot of awful shit. Things that give me nightmares to this day. And this Julian guy doesn’t even come close to giving me the shivers.” His eyes softened for the first time as he spoke in a gentler tone. “Help me get what I need so I can put this asshole where he belongs.”

  A car behind us beeped their horn causing me to jolt. When he shifted back around in his seat, I noticed the light was now green. I stared out the window with my head leaning on the glass. The rest of the drive was silent until we pulled into the police station parking lot. He got out the car, and opened the door for me. As I scooted out, he reached for my forearm to keep me balanced. Then he removed the handcuffs.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  He took off his jacket and helped me put it on. It was warm and carried his woodsy cologne scent. “I’m not going to arrest you.”

  My eyebrows furrowed. “Then why did you bring me here?”

  “After what I saw back there, I can’t let you go.” He let out an exaggerated breath. “But it’s clear you’re also a victim in this situation and I don’t want to arrest you.”

  He put his hand on my lower back, and led me toward the front entrance of the brick building. “Where are you taking me?”

  No response.

  The police station front door opened automatically as we approached. Two officers sat in the receptionist area staring at a computer screen. Once they saw him coming in, they went right back to what they were doing. Neither looked at me, which was a relief. I wasn’t getting arrested, but I was still at a police station. That was enough to put me in the news. It didn’t matter if nothing came of it. These so-called journalists didn’t seem to mind if the articles were truthful, as long as they were selling.

  The detective made a quick right down an empty hallway. My heels clicked against the hard flooring as we strode past several closed doors. When we reached the sixth one at the very end, he stopped. The sign on the door read: interrogation room. He turned the knob and pushed on the door. I stepped inside. Like the hallway, the small room was nothing but white walls and flooring. Up in the corner of the room, a camera videotaped our every move.

  In the center of the cramped space, there was a rectangular wooden desk with a thin metal bar attached. I sat down in one of the four black chairs. “Are you ready to tell me what’s going on?”

  He reached for my wrist and handcuffed me to the silver bar. “I’m going to put you on ice while I go have a conversation with your boy.”

  I wiggled my restrained arm. “Is this really necessary?”

  “Yes.”

  This wasn’t ideal, but it could’ve been a lot worse. I could’ve been fingerprinted and thrown into a cell with a bunch of criminals. “You said I wasn’t going to be arrested.”

  “I said I didn’t want to, but that doesn’t mean I won’t have to. It really all depends on what Julian has to say.” He sat in the chair next to me, and ran his finger over a torn piece of hanging fabric. “There’s not much I can do if he decides to press charges.”

  I was sure he was pissed I hadn’t returned to the party with his key. There was no telling what he was going to do when he found out about the dress. “There has to be something you can do. Julian doesn’t really care about this dress. It’s worthless to him, but he will press charges just to hurt me. To ruin me.” I put my hand on his chest. “Please help me.”

  He stared at me for a few long moments, then softly removed my hand. He rose from the chair and headed for the door. “Try not to make any noise. No one knows you’re here, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  Chapter Four - Detective Matthew Weggman

  What the hell had just happened?

  This whole thing seemed routine. She’d destroyed that dress and thrown around his paperwork. It was an obvious destruction of private property charge. Plus, I could’ve added resisting arrest and assault after she tried to seduce me—although I couldn’t pretend I didn’t enjoy it. She was the hottest woman I’d ever seen. My cock swelled the moment I saw her in that torn-up dress. Every curve of her toned body was on full display. Not
to mention that dirty mouth of hers which was damn near irresistible.

  And when she stroked my cock, it took all the restraint I had not to fuck her right there.

  Luckily, I came to my senses before I did something that would’ve certainly gotten me fired. But that was where the good decisions ended. I should’ve taken her in and charged her. That was the right move. Or was it? After I found out about that sleaze-bag, it felt like I was punishing the victim. If her accusations were true, Julian was way overdue for some serious jail time. My gut told me that she was being honest, which left me with no choice. I’d keep her here until I settled things with him.

  Afterwards, I’d start a formal investigation.

  I hadn’t realized I passed Aaron, my closest friend and fellow detective, without saying a word. He put out his arm and stopped me as I headed for the front door. We’d known each other since basic training, and he could always tell when something was off with me. “What’s doing, man?”

  There was no way I could explain all this to him. I needed to gather more information, and I really wasn’t in the mood to explain why I had a famous actress handcuffed to a table in one of our interrogation rooms. For now, I’d tell him what he needed to know. If people found out she was here, the media would be all over it. That was the last thing she needed after what she’d been through. Jesus, why was I feeling so protective over her? I didn’t know her, yet, I ached to help her. To protect her from this sleaze that wanted to hurt her. What the fuck was happening to me? I barely recognized my own emotions.

  “I’ve got a person of interest in six.” I glanced back down the hallway, already feeling the need to shield her. “I need you to guard the door and make sure no one goes in there.”

  He crossed his arms. “Who’s the informant?”

  “She’s not an informant. Just a person of interest in a case I’m working.” I clasped my hand on his shoulder. “Just do this for me, okay? I need time to figure this out.”

  There was a pause, then he finally nodded his head in agreement. “I’ll do this, but you’re going to fill me in when you get back.”