I recognized her from an interview I had done months before. Tatiana. No last name. The latest in supermodels, a pretentious bitch and recently linked to Jonathan Devane. A local heroine from a nearby small town, Tatiana talked with me at an evening charity fashion show in town. Halfway through the interview, Tatiana broke down into tears and poured out her guts. During a moving honest story, she confessed to an odd and creepy blood fetish—and to being bulimic.
Naturally, after the story ran, she denied it all and claimed I had made most of it up. It also could have been that at the time of the interview, alcohol drowned her brain cells, and she couldn’t remember confessing her secrets. Or it could’ve been the mention I made that her breath had smelled like something had died in her mouth.
Tatiana sashayed down the hall, her hips swaying side to side like a pendulum. I watched as she knocked on the very last door. It opened and Tatiana went in. Grabbing my notebook from my purse as I rushed down the hall, I frantically recorded the time of Tatiana’s arrival.
Carmen would be ecstatic. Jonathan and Tatiana’s relationship had supposedly ended. In last week’s tabloids, someone mentioned a very public display of theatrics on Tatiana’s behalf. Tatiana called Jonathan several vile names and threw her wine in his face at a very posh Toronto restaurant. Now she was here, meeting him in a hotel half way across the country.
I took out my cell phone and dialed the office.
“Serena? Get your butt down to the Palliser. I just saw Tatiana go into Jonathan’s room. I don’t know how long she’ll be here. You need to get pictures.”
Just as the door to Jonathan’s room opened, I disconnected. I held my breath as a man of mammoth-sized proportions stepped out into the hall. He shut the door behind him and stood off to one side. As I stopped at the neighboring room, he glanced at me. I smiled at him as I rummaged around in my purse, but he didn’t smile back. I used my phone again.
“Warner? It’s Bethany. I think I left that silly old card key in the boardroom. Could you check for me please?”
I paced around the hall as my pretend assistant checked the fake boardroom looking for my non-existent hotel card key.
“It is. Great I’ll be right there.”
I ended my pretend call, gave a little sigh and walked back to the elevators. Damn. There goes that plan. As I waited for the doors to open, I glanced back toward the mammoth. Unmoving, the guy stared straight ahead. I didn’t realize Jonathan had bodyguards or security. This giant acted like the secret service. As one didn’t become rich and powerful from being nice to everyone, I supposed Jonathan had enemies. He had gained a reputation for being a bastard.
The elevator doors opened. Movement caught my attention, and I paused, glancing to my right. From the far back hall, a chambermaid pushed her cleaning cart to the first room.
I let the elevator doors close. I had an idea. A devilishly brilliant idea.
I quickly walked down the hall to the open door of the far room and peeked in. A chambermaid stood with her back to the entrance, pulling sheets off the king-sized bed.
“Excuse me?”
The woman looked up from her work and turned to face me. “Can I help you ma’am?”
“Yes, I think you can.” I opened my purse and took out my wallet.
As I sauntered down the hall to Jonathan’s room, I adjusted my shirt again. The housekeeper’s uniform itched at my skin. The notebook tucked into my bra didn’t help either. It kept threatening to fall out.
Pushing the cart, I prayed silently that I could pull this off. If not, I’d be out fifty bucks. I definitely looked like a hotel cleaner. My hair was pinned up neatly under the little blue hat. My blue uniform fit okay. A little big in the waist, it hung past my knees, which kept up the frumpy look I was going for. I even had on glasses, which I carried around in my purse. My eyes were 20/20, but I liked to wear them for esthetic reasons or for covert operations such as this one.
When it came to clandestine campaigns, I was no rookie. On several occasions, I had passed myself off as someone else. Once, I convinced an attendee at a ten-year high school reunion that I was a certain graduate so I could gain entrance. I had a hot tip that a big Hollywood star had graduated from this class and planned to attend.
The whole night I pretended that I was so-and-so, hoping so-and-so didn’t show up. So-and-so didn’t show up, but the Hollywood star did. As soon as I sat down with a glass of wine and a small paper plate piled with petites fours, I pounced on her.
I didn’t get the interview, but I did get a story when the starlet tossed her drink on me and proceeded to curse up a storm. Who knew that she had even known some of those words? Her fans certainly didn’t.
I would do just about anything for a story. Some colleagues didn’t approve of my methods. I was determined to do what I had to do, to make a name for myself and get on with a bigger and better magazine. Being tired of working for a trashy small-time magazine made me a very dangerous woman.
I needed this story. It had the ability to catapult me to the big time. I’d be known as the reporter who exposed Jonathan Devane for the womanizing, unscrupulous, business fraud I thought him and not the charming, moral, champion of the Canadian artists he portrayed himself to be. Everyone had secrets. And I was determined to sniff his out.
Locking eyes with the mammoth as I pushed the cart to the door, I smiled demurely.
“I’m sorry, miss, but you’ll have to come back. Mr. Devane’s in a meeting.”
Yeah, meeting of the sex organs maybe.
“Really? This is my last room on this floor. That would mean I’d have to come all the way back up here after my shift.”
“I’m sorry, miss.”
“Could you check with Mr. Devane? He’d never know I was there. I’d be in and out as soon as I changed his sheets and brought him fresh fluffy towels.” I patted the pile of white terry cloth towels and batted my eyelashes at him.
He turned and opened the door. “Wait right there.”
I grinned. This was going to work. I quickly adjusted my bra again. The notebook was poking out of the top of my breasts.
The mammoth stepped out again. “You may clean the bedroom and bathroom. But be quick.”
I nodded and smiled. Grabbing my stack of towels and hanging my spray bottle from my belt, I moved past him and into the room.
Expansive and elegantly decorated, the suite was bigger than my apartment and had at least two more rooms. There was a large bank of windows but they were blackened out by thick window coverings. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was night time.
I tried not to stare at everything. Tatiana sat at the intimate table for two, sipping something red and nibbling on a piece of kiwi, and naturally, ignoring my arrival.
I rushed to the sliding bedroom doors. Still gazing at Tatiana, I slid open one side. Taking a step forward, I smacked right into six foot one of rock-hard male muscles and flesh. Blindly, I reached out to stop from falling backwards and grabbed onto his arm. He wrapped his other arm around my waist and pulled me close.
He smelled yummy, like spiced apple rum cake, my favorite dessert. His arm was solid steel under my grip, and I imagined the rippled muscle under the thin fabric of his dress shirt. God, he was more gorgeous than I ever remembered. If I didn’t look up and meet his gaze, I’d be all right. Just don’t look up, I chanted to herself.
“Are you all right?” His voice, low and husky, with a wee bit of Irish cream, rumbled over me. Pure sex. My thighs instantly tingled.
“Yes,” I squeaked.
I could tell he grinned down at me as I could feel the intensity of his one hundred-watt smile on my flushed face. Don’t look up! Don’t look! But I could feel his magnetism tractor beam dragging my head up. I was powerless to resist.
Just one tentative peek at his flawless sculpted face couldn’t hurt, could it? I slowly raised my head and looked up at him.
Jonathan’s eyes were bluer than I remembered. Blue like the ocean. Hooded by dark long ey
elashes, they seemed to draw me in. I pursed my lips and craned my neck up…reaching…for…
Damn! What was wrong with me? I bit down on my lip and pushed back out of his arms.
“Excuse me, sir.”
He eyed me for a long moment, then his lips twitched up into a smile. “No problem. It was my fault.”
For a second I thought that he recognized me. But then I shook that away. Men like him didn’t remember girls like me.
Afraid to look at him again, I kept my head down. The risk was insurmountable.
He stepped out of the way as I rushed into the room, sliding the door shut behind me, but leaving an inch open so I could hear their conversation. I set down the towels and slipped my notebook out from my cleavage. As I peered through the opening in the door, my breath came in hard pants. I was very close to hyperventilating.
“You should complain to the management about her.” Tatiana popped the rest of the kiwi into her mouth.
“Why? I scared the poor girl.” Jonathan walked over to the bar and poured himself a drink.
“Are you still mad?”
He glanced over his shoulder at the closed bedroom door. “No, surprisingly, I’m not.”
I caught his look and felt my stomach do a back flip. It was hungry, as if he was thinking about a meal. Rubbing a hand over my belly, I swore under my breath. Whoa, get a hold of yourself.
Tatiana used her long blood-red fingernail to dig out a kiwi seed from between her teeth. “I’m not sure why you were mad in the first place.”
“That is exactly the reason this doesn’t work. You never know why. You’re completely oblivious to everything around you.”
Tatiana stood up and slunk over to where Jonathan was standing. Grinning like a Cheshire cat, she placed a hand on his chest.
“I’m not oblivious to you.”
“Two weeks ago you were calling me slime and throwing wine in my face. Why are you here now?”
She rubbed her hand up and down his chest, snuggling in closer to him.
“I thought you were having an affair with that hussy Jordan Jarvis.”
“Jordan and I are friends. We were discussing an upcoming movie project. Not that I have to explain that to you.”
“I know, darling. It doesn’t matter. I forgive you.” She pressed her lips to his, fisting her hands in his shirt.
I frantically wrote notes in my book. Good stuff. A possible affair with a very young up-and-coming actress. Brilliant.
Moving her hands down, Tatiana cupped him through his pants. “Let’s get naked.”
Oh, this was getting better. I opened the door a little wider. I would definitely not be offended by a little peep show. Actually, I’d probably pay money to see this.
“Tat-.“
“Oh, don’t worry about the maid.” She nibbled her way around his neck. “Maybe we could ask her to join us. It’s been a long time since we’ve done that. By the looks of her, I’m sure the price would be low.”
I bristled at her comment and bunched my hands into tight bony fists.
Jonathan held Tatiana’s shoulders and gently pushed her away.
“It’s over.”
“I know. That’s why I forgive you.”
“No, it’s over between us. You officially ended it weeks ago, but it was over before it even started.”
Tatiana backed up as if she’d been slapped in the face. “I knew it. You’re entranced by that bitch, Jordan. You want to convert her.”
Convert? I frowned. Was Jonathan involved in some sort of cult? Scientology. That must’ve been it. He was a billionaire and good looking. He’d be a perfect candidate for a scientologist. Carmen would shit a brick when I told her.
Sighing, Jonathan rubbed a hand over his face. “You’re not listening, Tatiana.”
“Oh I hear you, Jonathan Devane. I hear you loud and clear.”
Turning, she snatched her sunglasses and bag from the table and marched toward the door. She stopped and glanced over her shoulder toward him.
“I never want to see you again.”
“That’s what you said last time. And the time before.” He splayed his arms wide. “And look, here you are.”
I put my hand over my mouth to stop the laugh bubbling up.
After sliding on her sunglasses, Tatiana flung open the door. “You’re a heartless bastard, and I lied when I said your dick was huge.” With that, she marched out and slammed the door shut.
Laughter burst out of me. I couldn’t keep it in.
Jonathan looked toward the bedroom door.
Before turning and flinging myself at the bed to grab at the sheets, I shoved the notebook down my shirt.
The bedroom door slid open, and Jonathan filled the doorway.
“Get a good laugh, did you?”
I kept at my work. “I’m sorry, sir? I don’t know what you mean.”
“I’m sure you heard everything that went on in there.”
“I don’t listen to other people’s conversations, sir.”
Draping the new sheets over the bed, I tucked them in as best I could. I sucked at making beds.
He stepped up to the bed and helped me smooth out the edges.
I looked up at him. What was he doing?
“I’ll give you a hundred dollars to forget everything you’ve heard.”
“I’ve heard and seen much worse, sir. You needn’t pay me off.”
“I know how tempting it would be to tell someone like the media.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize you were someone famous, sir.” As I fluffed the pillows, I smiled to myself. I walked past him to go into the bathroom.
Leaning against the doorway, he asked, “You didn’t recognize the woman that was here?”
“No, sorry.” After I grabbed all the dirty towels, I placed the new fresh ones on the shelves.
“The name Tatiana means nothing to you?”
“No, should it?”
I sprayed down the sink, getting more nervous by the moment. I didn’t like the way he was watching me. Was he suspicious of me? Did he know who I was? I’d better play it cool. Not talk so much. Maybe he was hitting on me.
“What’s your name?”
Julie? Susan? Rita?
“Mak.” Damn. Why’d I say that?
“Mak? That short for something?”
Glancing over my shoulder, I said, “My dad really wanted a boy.” Why on earth was I telling him this? It was as if I was compelled to.
Jonathan looked at me. And it was all intense and fierce and I wanted to drop to my knees in front of him and beg him to take me. Double damn. He was flirting with me. And I was interested. A heat blossomed deep in my belly.
There was a sharp knock at the door breaking the spell.
“Excuse me.” Jonathan left to answer the summons.
I quickly wiped the counter. I took my spray bottle and walked back into the bedroom. Time to get out. I had enough to start a story. And if I didn’t get out now, I feared what I would be willing to do for him, to him.
As I turned to leave the room, I tripped over a stray shoe and stumbled toward the night table. Grabbing the edges to steady myself, I glanced down briefly. What was this? Jonathan’s weekly itinerary. I whispered a thank you and folded up the paper, shoving it into my bra. Room was quickly diminishing in there.
Time to go. I grabbed the dirty laundry and walked toward the bedroom door, but skidded to a stop just short of the exit.
A very tall, very gorgeous redhead leaned against the front doorframe talking to Jonathan. Jasmine Knight, reporter for Siren magazine, a hodgepodge of film and music industry related gossip, and my bitter archival. Jonathan was holding her business card as she smiled sweetly at him. I imagined venom dripping from her oversized fangs. How did she get past the bodyguard? Probably breathed on him. Jasmine had a bad case of halitosis.
“David thought it would be a good idea for us to get together.”
“Did he now?”
“David and I go way back. He th
ought that if you were to do an interview it would be best with me. Since he knows how discreet I am. I know much you value discretion. Considering, your particular circumstances.”
What were his circumstances? What did she know that I didn’t?
I backed up into the bedroom, tossing the laundry on the floor. I’d be damned if that floozy-for-hire would scoop me again. She’d done it a mere eight months ago.
I had an interview setup with a major boy band playing the city for the first time. It turned out that Carmen had a nephew that went to Harvard with a sister of one of the members. So Carmen had set up the meeting for me.
To my surprise, when I went backstage after the show, I met more than the band. Jasmine was snuggled up to one of the members. Beer in one hand, boy-band boy balls in the other.
Siren ran a front-page story on the band. A very in depth story. Full of secrets, I assumed the boys didn’t really want out. My story ran on page ten…right after the laxative ad.
Looking around the bedroom, I searched for a hide out until Jasmine left. I would really blow my cover, and Jasmine was malicious enough to convince Jonathan to press charges.
“I’m not doing any interviews, Ms. Knight.”
“Jasmine, please. David could assure you that you’d be in great hands.”
“I’m sure he could, but until I speak with him, you’ll have to excuse me.”
“Mr. Devane, the media is fully aware that there is a major restructuring going on in your company. Rumors have it that you’ve taken over from your father, Martin. I say good for you. The company obviously needs new leadership, new vision. Your ratings haven’t been all that good as of late.”
“Thank you for your opinion, Ms. Knight, but—.”
“I’m just saying that you’d want a good solid magazine covering your story, printing what you want us to print. Not some rag of a paper like Hot Gossip misquoting you and completely fabricating the story. They’ve done it before.”
Love's First Bite: Bad Boys and Alpha Vampires Boxed Set (6 book bundle) Page 22
