Seduction in Session Read Online Free PDF

charity. The International Women and Girls Education Foundation had been a front for the Russian mob. One of their big corporate sponsors had been Crawford Industries, run by their late friend Maddox Crawford. As far as Connor could tell, once Mad had found the connection, they’d killed him for it.
    They’d also realized that one of the women who had been trafficked had worked as Zachary Hayes’s childhood nanny. The president of the United States had most likely been raised by a sex slave, and according to their lone lead, the only person who might be able to find her was Lara Armstrong.
    He glanced back and she appeared to be arguing with her friend. The friend was much more his type. She was tall with lush breasts and looked like she knew what to do with a man. So why could he not take his eyes off the little intellectual fairy? That was what Lara reminded him of. A pretty little fairy with too-big blue eyes and bright thoughts and so much dark hair he wasn’t sure how she handled it.
    “Yes, Everly is trying to track Deep Throat.”
    He winced at that expression. Though he knew its historical context, it really did sound like a porn film. “Has she found anything?”
    “Yes, but you’re not going to like it.”
    He turned back because it looked like he was about to have some company. Lara had anchored her purse on her shoulder and seemed to be drawing her courage. He knew exactly what Dax was about to say. “He contacted Lara Armstrong.”
    “Yes. We believe he’s sent her three e-mails in the last week. In the most recent, he told her to move to their backup means of communication. I don’t know what that is.”
    So Deep Throat knew they were onto him. He would be looking for letters or faxes or perhaps a disposable cell phone. He needed to get intoher condo, embed himself in her life. “I’ll figure it out. I need to go. I’ll call you if I need you, brother.”
    “See that you do.” The line disconnected just as the door swung open and his quarry made her appearance.
    Vintage sweater, check. Yellow dress, check. Purse that looked like she could shoulder the cares of the world inside, check. He’d expected her to look a little like the greenie version of Snow White. He hadn’t expected her breasts to be quite so round. They didn’t look that hot in her pictures. She always wore one of those damn sweaters that hid her body. Now he wanted to get a look at her ass to see if it matched her chest.
    Instead, he raised a brow, looked her over, and used his deepest voice on her. “Miss Armstrong? You’re five minutes late.”
    Her mouth opened, then it closed again. She had to crane her neck to meet his gaze when they were this close. A gentleman would have moved back and given her some space.
    Connor Sparks wasn’t a gentleman.
    “Mr. Connor?” She squared her shoulders as though she was preparing for battle.
    “Just Connor.” He wasn’t about to give her an inch.
    “Is that your first name or your last name?” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I wasn’t actually late. I was waiting inside so I wouldn’t be late.”
    “Our meeting was out here.”
    “I assumed we would go in the shop.”
    “You assumed wrong.” He’d meant to sit down with her in the coffee shop, but now it seemed like a better idea to keep her off-kilter. She would be comfortable in the coffee shop. It was her kind of place. She would be uncomfortable in a dark bar, and he saw just what he wanted across the street. “I was on a three-hour train ride with screaming children. I need a beer. Let’s go.”
    He started across the street toward a bar with no windows. Dank. Skanky. Perfect. He didn’t look back, but knew from the sound ofkitten heels clacking on the pavement that she was following as fast as her petite legs could take her.
    “Connor, we should talk,” she said as she tried valiantly to keep up.
    He gripped his bag and was gentleman enough to open the door for her. Hard rock throbbed from inside the