by Calinda B
Only a few customers occupied the far tables. She seated herself in a black vinyl padded chair at a small round table near the wall.
A slouching waiter shuffled over. His dirty blond hair hung in his eyes in disaffected style. “What can I get you?”
“I’m waiting for someone.” She smiled. “Give me a moment.”
“Sure thing.” He pivoted and shambled away.
And she waited. And waited. And waited. Has the bastard stood me up? How the hell can I find anything out if he fails to show? She blew out a sharp breath. Just because you don’t need to work for a living, Liam Chartier, doesn’t mean other people don’t. I can’t lose this job.
14
Savannah’s nerves were on high alert as she sat at Charlie’s Cafe, waiting for Liam. She fidgeted, fussing with her hair for the millionth time, before deciding to give up on him. She picked up the menu and held it in front of her face.
“He’s not coming,” she hissed into the listening device Adam had given her. “I’m leaving. This was a dumb idea. He probably has his dick deep inside whatever bitch he was with earlier.”
“You sound jealous,” Adam said.
“More like annoyed.” Keep telling yourself that. Maybe you’ll start to believe it. She opened her mouth to stretch her aching jaw, tight from clenching. “Meet me at the same corner.”
“Wait. He just got out of a cab.”
“He can’t see you, can he?”
“Girl,” he chided. “This is my livelihood. I’m perfectly concealed, I assure you.”
“I know, I know. I had a second of worry. It’s gone now. Poof!” She smiled.
He chuckled. “Get ready. He’s almost at the entrance.”
“I’m ready.” She set the menu on the table and pasted on her brightest smile, telling her nerves to quiet down.
When Liam stepped into the cafe, she studied him as he scanned for her. Handsome, strong, and commanding, as usual, he didn’t look freshly fucked, as she’d imagined. His face looked drawn, bruised with worry. When he saw her, he brightened for one brief second. Then, as usual, his scowl fell into place.
“Naeva,” he said in greeting as he approached.
“Hello, Liam. Thank you for coming.” She stood, feeling starched and formal.
Scented with a cloud of men’s cologne, tobacco, and scotch, he seized her shoulders and administered his dutiful air-kiss-on-both-cheeks greeting.
Savannah noted the absence of female perfume. Maybe she showered before she invited him up to her room. Or, maybe he cleaned up, so he didn’t arrive smelling like someone’s pussy. Nice of him.
He held out her chair for her to be seated again. “Sorry, I’m late. I got…caught up with something.”
You had to make her come a second time, am I right? She smiled sweetly. “At least you’re here.”
He frowned slightly as he sat across from her.
“How was your…training?” He studied her face, waiting for an answer.
I despised it. “Fine,” she said. It aroused the bejesus out of me. She let out a long breath.
“I’m impressed you left the house. You didn’t have to go, you know.” He grabbed his lip between his teeth, then released it. “I thought you’d probably want to hide for the next week or so.”
A slight smile flashed across his face like a whirling dust mote.
“This is going great,” Adam whispered in her ear. “He seems amenable to this talk. Tell him something to make him empathize with you.”
Savannah stroked the table top with her fingers.
Liam’s gaze tracked the movement.
“You honestly don’t believe that, do you?” she said. “Your mother is extremely persuasive.”
He barked out a cold laugh. “You have no idea.”
He rested his hand on the table, near hers.
She nodded, inviting sympathy, then continued. “All my life I’ve been told what to do and where to go.” This wasn’t far from the truth. “Go here, do this. Live here. Just once I’d like to make my own decision, you know?” She let out a dramatic sigh for emphasis.
“Who gave you the all-access pass to my life?” A smile played at the corners of his mouth.
“So, you know what I’m talking about, right?” She inched her hand closer to his.
He sighed and shook his head. “Fucking Diamond Club reality.”
He placed his pinky finger on top of hers.
“This is great! It’s going great. You’re doing a fantastic job,” Adam said excitedly.
She smiled. “I never felt like I had any friends, ever. I’ve been lonely my whole life.”
He frowned, moving his warm hand over hers. “So, you don’t roll with the beehive bitches like the Diamond Club nourishes?”
She shook her head.
“Some of those women…” He shook his head. “Can’t stand them. Like Monique, your father’s…” His expression grew guarded. “Never mind.” He stroked her hand.
“No, you can say it. She’s my father’s fuck-friend.” She smiled.
An amused expression whizzed along Liam’s face but then was replaced by a somber, serious gaze.
“I think she can’t stand me. And for something out of my control.”
“What’s that?” His finger stroked hers. “What can’t you control?” He licked his lips.
“It’s…nothing.” She pictured Monique’s defiance with Master Steele. Then, her own submission to him flashed through her mind. She couldn’t believe how tantalizing it had been to be subjected to his ministrations. She’d been defiant at first. But as each lash landed, followed by his caresses, she’d been won over. She blew that thought away. Angling her body toward Liam, she turned her hand over, entwining her fingers with his. “I don’t want to talk about that. I’d rather talk about us.”
Liam stiffened and drew back slightly.
“I know we’re betrothed as part of some club scheme but…I like you, Liam.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I’m a means to an end, nothing more.”
“Snap!” Adam said. “That’s harsh. Don’t let it get to you. It’s defense, nothing more.”
A knot formed in her belly. “Not to me.”
“Prove it.” He scooted his chair closer until their thighs touched.
He leaned closer, lips parted.
The slouching waiter shuffled over, interrupting them. “What can I get you?”
He flicked his head to get his bangs out of his eyes.
Liam abruptly untangled his hand from hers.
Damn. Was he about to kiss me?
“Naeva?” Liam inclined his head toward her.
“A cola will be fine.”
“Gotcha. For you, sir?”
“Coffee, please.”
“Coming right up.” He turned and ambled away, his body curved in a slumping S-shape.
“Where was I?” Liam turned to her, his eyes smoldering.
Savannah licked her lips. “I don’t know.” She eyed his succulent mouth. “Something about me proving you’re more to me than a transaction.”
“Right.” He cupped his hand around the back of her neck and brought her close. Slanting his lips over hers, he kissed her, softly, sweetly, almost savoring the connection.
Her core flushed with heat.
The waiter tromped toward their table and dropped off their drinks. “Can I get you creamer? Sugar?”
Liam jerked back like he’d been shot. “Can’t you see I’m busy, you idiot?”
“Whoa, dude.” The waiter put his hands up, palms out. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m only doing my job.”
“We’ve got a problem,” Adam said. “Abort. Abort. Get out here, ASAP. I’ll find you. No Liam.”
His tone of voice sent her body into the alert zone. What’s wrong? What happened?
Her heart began to race. How can I do that? She reached, as if to pick up her drink, and knocked the glass over. Soda poured across the table.
Liam leaped up to avoid getting a
cola bath.
She swept her arm along the table, knocking her glass to the floor. It landed, shattering.
“I’m so sorry.” She bolted to her feet.
“Look what you made her do,” Liam snapped at the waiter.
“Chill out, man. You need to calm down.” The waiter began backing away.
She grabbed a paper napkin and dabbed the table. Cola dripped into her lap. She scooted back. “I’m fine. Really.”
The few customers in the cafe gawked.
“Isn’t that Liam Chartier?” one of them said.
“I think so, yes.”
“This was a mistake,” Liam said. He grabbed her hand and hauled her toward the door.
“Wait, I…” She glanced back at the waiter.
He stared at her and shook his head.
“I need to go back to my place and get cleaned up.” She followed him out the door into the sultry night air.
He hustled along the sidewalk, still clutching her hand. “You’re coming with me. I’ve got everything you need at my place.”
She hurried to keep up. Longing filled her heart. I wish I could.
She tugged him to a stop. “I can’t…I…” Her eyes filled with tears. They were real, but they didn’t match what she was about to say. “Today has been awful. All I want to do is curl up in my bed and forget about it.”
All I want to do is get back to the part where we kiss. Her hands curled into fists. Stop it! Stop letting him get to you!
He frowned, studying her in a manner that made her insides fill with heat. “I can take care of…” His expression hardened into granite. “Fuck it. Forget it. Go on, then. I’ll call for a car.” He fished out his phone.
“No, a cab will be fine.”
“I’m not letting you get into a stranger’s vehicle.”
She took a step back from his intensity. “Okay. Thank you.”
He pressed the screen of his device. Then, he barked orders to whoever picked up.
“Head back to the Weathersby Manor. I’ll meet you there,” Adam said softly.
A few seconds later, a sleek black limo pulled up to the curb. A driver Savannah didn’t recognize stepped from the car.
“Mr. Chartier,” he said, tipping his hat. “Ms. Weathersby.” He strode to the passenger door and opened it, holding it for her.
She stepped toward it and then hesitated before climbing inside.
“Take her to the Weathersby Manor,” Liam said.
“Right away, sir. Will I be dropping you off, as well?”
“No. I’ve got somewhere else to be.” His gaze slid toward Savannah. A strange expression shimmered on his face.
Is it regret? Does he want to be with me, too? Or, does he need to patch things up with whoever he left to be with me?
“Where will you be?” she asked, keeping her tone as soft as possible.
“I’ve got to take care of some things at the club.”
Her heart lurched. He’s getting back to someone who can satisfy him. She rolled her lips between her teeth to keep from crying. Goddamn it, Savannah! Stop the head trip. Just do your job. You can’t, in a million years, develop feelings for this guy. Nodding, she started to get in the limo.
“Wait, Naeva.” Liam lunged for her. “It’s not…”
She waited for the rest of his sentence.
He sighed. “Take care of yourself, okay?”
Her shoulders fell. Tears welled in her eyes. “You, too.”
She scrambled into the vehicle as elegantly as she could, letting the driver close her inside the dark space.
Liam stood on the sidewalk, his hands on his hips. He stared at the tinted window facing her. Then, he turned and strode away, as the car eased onto the street.
She let her head fall back on the plush leather. A few tears escaped, silently tracking along her skin, dampening her hair. Get it together, Agent Summers. Straightening, she reached for a tissue in the console and dabbed at her eyes.
A few minutes later, when the limo arrived at the Weathersby Manor, she’d managed to tamp her feelings into the numb box she kept inside her heart.
The driver opened the door.
She slid free, assisted by the nameless, uniformed chauffeur.
“Have a good night, Ms. Weathersby,” he said, nodding his head.
She made her way inside, using the key Marcus had given her. Inside, she trekked down the hall, entered the elevator to her floor, got out, and took a few steps to her front door.
The shouts and outcries of male voices made her pause. Who’s in my suite? Cautiously, she slid in the key, turned it, and cracked the door, listening. She recognized Adam’s voice, Marcus’s and…Is that Dr. Doucette?
I see I have no real privacy. They can enter when they feel like it? She scrunched up her face. I’m so screwed. It was that blood test, wasn’t it? Squaring her shoulders, she strode into the room, busy concocting lies to cover herself.
The heads of all three men whipped to face her.
Adam’s face was red, a deep scowl denting his handsome features.
Marcus matched him in color and expression.
Dr. Doucette looked like he’d caught a mouse and had it in his mouth, with the tail hanging out as proof. “Well, well, well,” he said.
Savannah ignored him. “Feel free to let yourself into my living quarters, Father,” she said, putting on her best bored, tired face.
Marcus grimaced. “It was important. The doctor said it was an emergency.”
“What’s so urgent you have to call me away from a date with my fiancée?” She focused her gaze on Dr. Doucette.
He smiled, coldly. “It seems we have an anomaly in your blood work. I saw you when you were a youth, right after your mother's death. So, I'm curious to know how your blood type has changed from Type O to AB Negative?”
Savannah looked to Marcus. She looked to Adam. Then, she sighed, picturing this heist heading in the same direction as the last one. It’s going downhill, and I’ll no doubt be blamed. “I can explain.” Her mind raced for ideas. God knows I can’t lose my job.
15
Standing in Fleur Rouge, the city of New York cloaked in midnight outside the window, Savannah swore she faced a look of venomous evil, radiating from Dr. Doucette.
One lone lamp glimmered from the corner. Vases of fresh red flowers filled every corner and surface of the darkened room, lending an air of macabre elegance.
“Let’s hear your explanation,” Dr. Doucette began, addressing her statement from a few seconds ago. “Who are you and why are you here?”
“The blood test—it’s not what you think,” she began.
He advanced toward her. “How do you know what I think? Do you even notice me?” His face bloomed with red heat. “I’m like the furniture among you people.”
She backed away. “I’m sure you’re valued.”
“Only for the services I provide. I could be a robot. I could have a sex change or a facelift, and no one would be the wiser. All I am here is a function. I’m nothing to the Diamond Club but a drugstore.” He threw his arm out, his finger pointing at her in accusation. “But you…I knew there was something different about you. You’re not a Weathersby. You don’t have the attitude…or the blood.” He grinned coldly, looking more like a gold-fanged vampire than a benevolent medical practitioner.
“You must have made a mistake in the blood test,” she said. “It happens all the time.”
“I don’t make mistakes,” he said, in a voice frigid with icy inflection.
Adam’s jaw ticked. His arms were poised to take down the slight doctor if he even breathed on Savannah.
“How could my father not know who I am?” She sought Marcus’s eyes for support.
Marcus stared at the door, no doubt wishing he could make a run for it. “That’s right, Doucette. How could I not know Naeva? She’s my daughter for Christ’s sake. Now quit your raving so I can get back to the club.”
Dr. Doucette turned to glare at Marcus. “You th
ink I live and breathe to serve your depraved needs.”
Marcus’s face shone with sweat. “It’s not like that, Tim.” He put his hands up in a placating manner. “It’s like Naeva said. We do value you.”
“I’m Dr. Doucette to you. You don’t get to call me by my first name.” His gaze swept around the room, making eye contact with Savannah, Adam, and Marcus. “I want answers.”
“Now, now,” Marcus said. He reached into his jacket pocket for a handkerchief and dabbed his sweaty face. Then, he pulled out a leather-bound checkbook. “I’m sure we can set things right. How much do you want?”
Dr. Doucette barked out a cold laugh. “You and all your money. You think you can buy me this time? I’m afraid it won’t be that simple.” The doctor plunged his hand into his pocket. He withdrew a long syringe. “This, my friends, is one of the cocktails I’m known for at the club. It’s a combination of sodium thiopental used to induce unconsciousness, pancuronium bromide to cause muscle paralysis and respiratory arrest, and potassium chloride to stop the heart. Who would like to be first?” He squeezed the plunger. A few drops of the euthanasia spilled from the needle’s sharp-tipped end.
“Puh-lease. You’re outnumbered here. What can you do with that thing?” Savannah snapped.
“Oh, I can do plenty.” He fisted the syringe, positioning his thumb on the plunger. “One of you tries to grab me, I jab this needle into your body.”
Adam reached for the gun inside his jacket.
Savannah shook her head at him. “Not yet,” she mouthed.
He backed down but kept his hand inside his jacket, no doubt curled over his weapon.
Marcus began inching toward the exit.
“Where do you think you’re going, Weathersby? Sit down and stay put.” Dr. Doucette pointed at the sofa, appearing to take glee in his newly found power. “Don’t forget. I always carry a lethal injection.” He chuckled and turned toward Adam. “Armed and ready, isn’t that what your kind says?”
