by Sophia Rae
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520
Macon GA 31201
Naked Vengeance
Copyright © 2008 by Sophia Rae
ISBN: 1-59998-909-3
Edited by Eve Joyce
Cover by Scott Carpenter
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: April 2008
www.samhainpublishing.com
Naked Vengeance
Sophia Rae
Dedication
To Lora Leigh. Thanks for all the encouragement and friendship. I always look forward to our dinner dates. Love ya!
Acknowledgments
To the dancers and costume designers who offered advice and input on a world I knew nothing about. Thanks for sharing some of your secrets, ladies!
Chapter One
She knew he watched her. Watched the way she worked the stage, the pole and the audience. If he came for her tonight, she’d be ready—to kill or to die.
No matter the outcome, the revenge would be sweet.
Her scantily clad body slithered through the velvety red curtain as the seductive beat of the music picked up its rhythm. The policeman’s jacket she wore hugged her every curve, stopping just under the swell of her ass.
As she stepped out into the lights, she kept her cop’s hat pulled down to shade her face. The men didn’t care what her face looked like, only her body. And with her rigorous two-hour workout each day, she had a hell of a body.
With legs spread wide, she allowed her hips to pump back and forth to the music’s sensual beat. One hand remained on the bill of her hat while the other worked the buttons of her jacket, one by one by one.
“Yeah, take it off, honey!”
Her hands were a little shakier than she would’ve liked, but she kept telling herself this was just like any other night on the stage. The unwelcome nerves and humiliation were a small price to pay for vengeance.
Between the colored lights blinding her and the choking atmosphere of cigarette smoke, she couldn’t make out any particular face. Was he sitting close to the stage? In the back by the bar? At a table in the corner nursing a drink?
Regardless of where he was, he was no doubt plotting and calculating his next move.
Just as the music hit its climactic point, she ripped off her jacket to reveal a sheer black demi bra and matching thong. Hoots and hollers roared in her ears, and she only prayed all her hard work and sacrifices would pay off.
She had to admit, though, a small piece deep down inside her actually got into this routine. The power of knowing she had control over the room, over the men, made the adrenaline rush through her veins.
As the music soared, she wrapped a leg around the tall, silver pole and rolled her body against the cool steel. At this moment in time, every man in the room fantasized about her.
How could she not enjoy the attention? What woman, if she was totally honest, wouldn’t want to be desired?
With her long, toned leg still wrapped around the pole, she arched her back, giving the paying customers a view of her perky, well-rounded chest. She unwrapped herself and eased her way around the edge of the stage on her hands and knees to allow the sweaty dollar bills to be stuffed into her G-string. Old men, young men, fat or skinny—they all loved a woman wearing scraps of sheer material while crawling around within inches of their grasp.
Money clung to her damp body as she slinked back off stage just the way she’d come in, whistles and shouts following her. Behind the curtain, the other girls gave her a pat on the back and told her she’d performed another great routine…for a newbie.
The newbie, who’d danced as Corporal Nastee, had done another dance without a flaw. As she accepted a short, silky black robe from a fellow stripper, she pulled the cash out and counted it. Seventy-three dollars for a two-minute routine. Not bad.
She made her way down the short concrete hall toward the back of the club. Girls rushed behind the scenes as they pulled on leather and silk, teased their hair, shimmered their cleavage with powder, and mastered a seductive walk on four-inch stilettos. Now seated at her own dressing table, she proceeded to remove the pound of make-up she’d applied only twenty minutes before.
Focused on wiping off the layers of thick black mascara and charcoal liner, she ignored the man who’d stepped inside the dressing room from the back alley. A man who’d turned the other ladies’ heads as soon as he stepped through the “Employees Only” door. A man who looked like he had a mission to accomplish. A man who had his eye on her.
“Eve.”
If a heart could actually stop beating, Eve believed hers did for a split second at the sound of her name coming from the total stranger’s mouth.
Her eyes shifted and locked onto her mirror, but she didn’t turn to answer. She hoped whoever it was would go away—any slip-up now could be detrimental…or deadly.
“My name ain’t Eve, but you can call me anything you want, darlin’,” a sexy blonde clad in only gold body glitter said as she draped a bare arm over the stranger’s shoulders.
He pried himself loose without taking his eyes off Eve. She sat perfectly still at her table, praying he would just leave if she didn’t respond. She didn’t know who this man was, but he looked downright dangerous. Had someone figured her out? Could this be the cold-blooded killer she’d hunted for so long?
Tall, at least six-three, with inky hair and mesmerizing coal-like eyes beneath black brows. Being a warm-blooded woman, it would be impossible not to notice him.
The breadth of his shoulders filled out his basic black T-shirt to the limit and well-worn jeans hugged his long legs. No doubt the man could be intoxicating and if he didn’t leave soon, she had a feeling there’d be a fight amongst the women.
“You need to come with me.”
It wasn’t a request. He hadn’t budged an inch since he stepped inside the door; not even his eyes had shifted around to take in all the nearly naked women strutting about. This man was on a mission.
“I’m sorry, honey, I don’t do private parties,” she answered in her sweetest fake-Southern voice.
The instant he took a step toward her, her heart picked up its pace. But before she could decide whether to run or stay, fate took over and filled the room with darkness.
Screams erupted from the women just before total chaos filled the dressing area at the sound of gunshots. A large, rough hand wrapped around Eve’s biceps, pulled her up from her stool and dragged her to the back of the room. He pushed her ahead of him, using his body as a shield while he ushered her out the building.
“Let go of me!” She doubted he could hear her over the screaming.
Eve nearly fell down the small, concrete step just outside the back door. The dim overhead alley light allowed her to see once again.
“Take your hand off me,” she spit out.
Without releasing her, he spun her around to face him. “That’s a nice way to say thanks to someone who just saved your life.”
Eve tugged her arm free and stepped back, barely managing to stay upright on the uneven pavement in her stilettos. “Who are you?”
“
A friend.”
Eve laughed as she rubbed her arms up and down the silky robe. “Well, friend, why don’t you go back in there and tell your other friends to stop shooting?”
“They aren’t my friends.”
“Really? Well, everything was fine and dandy until you showed up. I still have another dance to do. Maybe you should try entering the front door like all the other men. But I suggest taking that shoulder holster off and leaving it and your gun in your car. You’ll scare the other women, not to mention make those big, burly bouncers as mad as pit bulls.”
Now that she stood so close to him, she could make out his face. And what a face he had. Even with the piss-poor light, she could see the man had strong lines with a square jaw and thin lips—no doubt due to anger. Dark eyes surrounded by darker lashes, with a small scar running through his right brow. From this angle, a shadow cast over a portion of his face, making him all the more mysterious.
Even with her neck-breaking high heels on, he still had a good five inches on her, so he loomed over her with ease. If he thought he could intimidate her, he had another thing coming. With the mood she had been in lately, he’d be better off getting the hell out of her way.
“I’ve been hired to protect you.”
Eve ignored the prickle on the back of her neck. “By who?”
The intriguing stranger showed no emotion. “The person wants to remain anonymous.”
Could this all be a ploy? Did this man really know her true identity and her plans? She sincerely doubted it, seeing as how she’d been so careful not to tell anybody at all her whereabouts and she’d used only her real first name, making up her last.
On the other hand, what if he worked for the man she’d been waiting for? What if this dangerous stranger could lead her to the killer?
Eve eyed him as the questions and possibilities whirled in her head. “Why should I believe you when I don’t even know you?”
“It’s up to you whether you want to believe me or not,” he said with a cockiness to his slow Southern drawl. “I’ve been paid to do a job and I intend to do it.”
Eve’s chin came up in defiance. “Well, you can do what you want, but I have to get back inside before I get fired.”
Eve turned, teetering on one heel, but before she could move away from the irksome yet captivating stranger, a shot sounded through the alley. The deafening pop had her looking back over her shoulder at her “protector”.
The stranger grabbed her arm and hauled her behind an overloaded dumpster. “Stay down. I’m about to save your ass again, honey.”
He pulled a Glock from the leather shoulder holster and fired around the metal garbage bin. Seeing as how she was unarmed, Eve kept her head down, her arms up by her face. She would not die in the back of some dingy alley beside a rank dumpster with a man who looked like a god, acted like Rambo and could very well just be the devil in disguise. She had a job to do and she intended to see it through to the end—just as soon as she got out of this little predicament. Allowing this stranger, who might or might not be on her side, to take control of this situation was all she could do, considering she was half-dressed and without her own gun.
“That should do it.” He shoved his gun back into his holster.
“Did you kill him?”
He extended his hand, reaching for her. “Nah, just nicked him. Amateur wouldn’t have hit us if we stood right in front of him. You’re safe now.”
Eve ignored his outstretched hand and rolled her eyes at his stand-behind-me-little-lady attitude. Damn, she hated being protected, especially by a stranger.
She came to her feet now that the fight seemed to be over. The deep V in her robe had fallen open and before she could cinch it back together, she caught him taking a good, long look at her breasts, still only covered by the sheer black bra.
“I already told you once, I don’t do private parties. I don’t do peep shows either.”
He shrugged. “I don’t do strippers, so we’re on the same page. But that doesn’t mean I’m not a man. If you go around exposed like that, I can’t help but look.”
“Gosh, what was I thinking coming out here in only a robe? I forgot to grab my jeans and T-shirt before you so rudely pulled me from my dressing area.”
He laughed and ran a hand down his face. “Are you really that stupid? I saved you. What don’t you understand about that?”
Fury bubbled up through her and before she knew it, her fist connected with the side of his smooth face. He jerked back as his hand came up to rub the red spot she’d made.
He straightened himself and grinned. “You pack an impressive punch, but I was looking for something a little along the lines of gratitude.”
Eve wouldn’t rub her hand. She refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much it hurt when she connected with his stone-like jaw.
“Gratitude?”
“Do you have to repeat everything I say?”
Eve clenched her fists to keep from hitting him again. “You’ve said so many idiotic things, I’m just making sure I get it all right.”
“I don’t lie, sweetheart. Everything I say is the truth.”
Eve didn’t like the shudder that rippled through her when the word sweetheart slipped through his kissable lips.
Whoa! Did she just think his lips were kissable? More like smackable. Why would her mind betray her like that? She didn’t have time for sexual encounters or shenanigans in a back alley with this man. Her mission didn’t involve getting sidetracked even for a second. If he worked for the enemy, he was trying his damnedest to keep her out in this ratty alley.
“You’ve got a pretty eye,” he said, eyes roaming over her face.
“Eye?”
“Yeah.” He motioned to her right eye. “The one without all that crap piled on it.”
“I was in the middle of taking it off to redo it when you barged in.” Eve let out a sigh and glanced down the alley. “Look, I’m going back inside.”
“You’re going to go back in there after all that happened? Not too smart, are you?”
Eve didn’t appreciate the way he assumed to know her or her intelligence level. “All my stuff is inside. I need to see what’s going on.” Eve shrugged. “Maybe with all the commotion, I’ll have the rest of the night off.”
“I’ll wait around to make sure you get home okay.”
She resisted the urge to growl. “Actually, it’s not okay, but I can hardly stop you.”
Eve stalked toward the club door on her skinny heels, not giving a damn that with each step her silky robe shifted in the back. She didn’t care what this so called bodyguard thought of her, so it didn’t matter that his last impression would be her derrière.
***
What did she think she was doing? Nick’s mind veered off track at the sight of her sweet little ass as it peeked out from underneath the scrap of material she called a robe. His hands ached to grab hold of that firm flesh she teased him with.
The sight of that curvy, seductive woman had been enough to make him forget, momentarily, the last time he’d been in this alley. The scene played over and over in his head. Blood, sirens, mists of rain on his face. And the cries. He’d never forget how they echoed through the dark, damp night. Cries that still came, only this time in his dreams.
By the time his mind jerked back to reality and the job, she had disappeared back into the club. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind the club would close for the night due to the shots fired. Also, swarming cops kind of put a damper on the whole ambience of watching a strip show while getting liquored up.
Out of habit, he checked his back again to make sure no surprises lurked in the shadows before heading to his car, which he’d conveniently parked beside Eve’s red Jeep Wrangler. His black BMW M3 chirped as he used the keyless remote. He slid in behind the wheel to wait for Eve.
Some might consider him flashy for his pick of vehicles—well, okay, maybe he was flashy. Many people put money into their homes or lavish vacations, but n
ot Nick. Cars all the way, baby.
He’d bought it after the last op, when he’d decided to retire. Only a bodyguard in the business needed an incognito vehicle. That left him out.
Until now.
Beside him, Eve’s profile lay in a plain brown manila envelope, a stark contrast to the sleek black leather seats. The useless information wouldn’t help him on his mission, as it contained only her name, her previous address and an old phone number. No family listed or significant others. No list of who might want her harmed or for what reason. That would’ve been too easy.
Going in on a job blind didn’t sit well with Nick, a job he didn’t even want to begin with. The last time he’d been hired to protect someone…
Fortunately, for his sanity, he had to push that op out of mind in order to focus on this one. Not the past. At the moment his job revolved around Eve Morgan, or whatever alias she used these days. Period. The feisty redhead obviously didn’t believe him and didn’t want his help, but that wasn’t going to be an option. He’d promised a friend and he never went back on a promise.
In no time at all, Eve emerged from the front of the club. For a second, he didn’t recognize her, but the untamed mass of curly hair tipped him off. She’d exchanged her sexy robe for a pair of faded cut-off jean shorts and a red tank top. Nick had a feeling if the woman wore a burlap sack she’d still be sexy as hell.
When her eyes locked onto his through the windshield, Nick simply lifted a hand and waved. She returned the gesture with a one-fingered wave. Nick chuckled as she took off in her Jeep, leaving him to follow behind.
Fifteen minutes later she parked parallel in front of a two-story apartment building. He pulled in behind her and killed the engine. It didn’t surprise him that she didn’t even look at him as she got out of her car and disappeared inside.
After he locked her worthless profile in his glove box, Nick pulled the gun from his shoulder holster to check his ammo. He’d fired off some rounds back in the alley, but hadn’t emptied the clip. He also didn’t figure he’d need it anymore this evening, but he wouldn’t take any chances until he found out what, or who, he was up against.
