“Mr. Milland, would you come this way?” The police captain came to greet him personally and led him to his office. After they had been seated, the captain gave him a sympathetic look.
“Mr. Milland, I know this has been hard, but I assure you that we are doing everything we can to find Viola’s killer”
“It’s been weeks and no new leads,” Alex said. “Surely there must be something. Can you trace the crossbow bolt?”
“Unlikely,” the captain said. “Mr. Milland, can you think of anyone or anything, no matter how seemingly inconsequential that might make—”
“Someone fire a crossbow bolt into the abdomen of the woman I loved? No,” Alex was snippy now. “Viola had no enemies. None. And to do that to someone … why?”
The police captain hesitated. “Mr. Milland, our police psychologist has been asking the same questions”
“And?”
“The manner of killing … the way she was tied before being shot … he seems to think it was a sexual motive”
Alex leaned forward. “Aren’t they all? Viola was a beautiful woman, Captain. I assumed it was sexually motivated from the beginning. The question is—who?”
The captain tapped his pen on the desk. “Mr. Milland, how long had you and Viola been in a relationship?”
“Two years, five months, and seven days. Why?”
“Is it possible she had a lover? Or lovers?”
Alex felt the blood drain out of his face, but he sighed. “It’s possible. I spent long days and nights away on business. We sometimes argued about it” He turned hooded, haunted eyes to the captain. “Am I a suspect?”
“We can’t rule out anyone at this point”
Alex nodded. “I understand”
“Do you know of anyone close to you who might have had the opportunity—I’m not saying they did anything untoward—but had the opportunity to be alone with Viola?”
Alex rubbed his head. “Yes. I have a group of friends with whom Viola was friendly, and I know when they were in town and I wasn’t, they would sometimes have dinner or drinks with her. But none of them would do this, Captain. They are my brothers”
“It would be good to talk to them, Mr. Milland”
Alex shook his head. “No, I won’t believe any of them had anything to do with this. You’re looking in the wrong direction”
“Still, Mr. Milland … I’d like to have their names. Just to be thorough” The captain’s voice had taken on a hard edge and Alex, seeing how seriously he was taking this, couldn’t think of a way to dissuade him.
“Please don’t harass them,” he said and, sighing, began to recite their names. “Lisander Duarte, Benoit Vaux, Seth Cantor, Maceo Bartoli …”
After a weekend of sightseeing and screwing—sometimes both at the same time— Ori finally sent Maceo home on Sunday evening. “I don’t want anyone to know we’ve been together,” she said firmly, “I need to make my own first impression. I don’t want to be known as the girl who screwed her way into her job, Maceo”
Maceo had no choice but to honor her wishes, but he insisted on making sure the apartment was intruder-proof before he left. Ori didn’t mind that at all. Seeing Maceo working with his hands, fixing deadbolts to the door, installing an alarm, especially when he could have just paid someone to do it, was a huge turn on. She thanked him profusely in the shower afterward.
Now, as she sat outside on the balcony breathing in the cool night air, she missed him. His crazy, infectious energy was like a balm to every bad thing. Yes, she knew that she was unlikely to ever be able to trust him completely … but when had she trusted anyone, anyway? Even her beloved mother had let her down the one time Ori had gone to her and told her what Tyson had done to her.
“You must never, ever say anything like that ever again, child, never”
And, haunted by the fear on her mother’s face, she hadn’t.
Maceo Bartoli … he had gotten under her skin in a way Ori had never experienced before. She was under no illusions that they were dating—they were merely screwing—no commitment, no relationship, and that was fine with her. But she couldn’t stop thinking about the way his lips felt against hers, or the clean scent of his skin, and the way his gaze fixed on hers as he thrust into her. She could still feel the way his dark brown curls felt as she slid her fingers through them. God, stop thinking about him, she told herself fiercely—even dreaming of him turned her on.
She went to bed early, setting her alarm for seven a.m. She had a water taxi booked for eight; she wanted to be early on her first day. Her work clothes—a simple burgundy dress and heels—hung on the back of her door. Ori got into bed and switched off the lamp, scooching down. She felt optimistic for the first time in a long time. A new job, a new life. A new love? Her cell phone beeped with a text message.
Goodnight, sleeping beauty. I will see you in the morning. Sleep well, M.
Ori smiled to herself and replied. You too … boss. She put a smiley face on the end of the message and shut off her phone. Soon she was asleep, the cool Venice air drifting in through the window.
She had no idea how soon her happiness would be shattered.
Tyson Janek stood on the small boat as it pulled up alongside the jetty outside Ori’s apartment, but he made no move to get out. Instead, he stared up at the open window of where she had to be sleeping. So close …
So she’d scored herself a billionaire boyfriend, then? Maceo Bartoli. Tyson’s murderous jealousy had not been helped by what Harrison had discovered about the man. He was 39, an art dealer and gallery owner, involved in something called The Midnight Club. Bartoli was powerful, had friends in the Italian government, and was a ruthless businessman. But all that was nothing compared to Bartoli’s almost legendary status with women. If he wanted them, he could have them—his devastating good looks made sure that the world’s most beautiful women hung on his every word.
And now he had Ori. My Ori, Tyson seethed, but he did not show it on his face. He wondered if Bartoli would be unhappy when Ori died or if she was just another random fuck for him.
No. From the personality profile he had on the man, Bartoli might be a whore, but he treated all his castoffs royally. He was passionate and caring, even if commitment wasn’t his thing. Tyson had to admit, he probably suited Ori. Ori had always hated being tied down—Tyson smirked to himself, and literally too.
He nodded to the boat captain, who backed the small boat away from the jetty and out into the lagoon. No, Maceo Bartoli would mourn Ori, Tyson was sure.
But he’ll mourn her from the confines of a jail cell.
Ori walked into the gallery at a quarter of nine, nervous but excited. She saw Maceo already there, talking to a group of people gathered around one of the paintings. Clients, she guessed, and hovered in the background, not sure of what to do. She watched Maceo charm them, making them laugh, the women all tucking their hair behind their ears and standing a little straighter. Ori hid a smile. Man whore in everything, she thought without malice. She could see the danger of him—so easy to fall for, so difficult to let go.
Maceo noticed her, and a huge smile spread across his face. He excused himself politely and came to her. “And early, too. That’s always a plus” He kissed her cheeks, his green eyes twinkling at her. “Come meet some people and then we’ll get to organizing you”
The morning flew by as Ori didn’t have the time to worry as Maceo steered her through meeting clients and getting to know the staff. He introduced her as a friend of Lucia’s; she was glad, it saved her a lot of nervousness. Maceo, his hand on the small of her back, was professional all the way, and most of the young woman greeted her as an old friend. Ori wasn’t stupid; she knew Maceo had probably screwed half, if not more, of them, but to his credit, they all seemed to be on friendly terms with their boss. Only one woman, Cassie—the other American—Maceo had chuckled – a blonde with a sweet face, was cooler to Ori, her eyes searching her face, then resting on Maceo. A small smirk hitched up at the side of her mo
uth. Ori flushed, but Maceo didn’t notice anything.
“Cas, can I get you to show Ori somewhere she can dump her things? She’ll be hot-desking mostly for now. Ori, please excuse me for a few more moments while I show my clients out”
“Of course”
Cassie took Ori up a flight of glass stairs. A large open plan office lay on the second floor but Ori was amused to see huge tables filled with art materials as well as the usual desks. It was messy and colorful and Ori loved it. A few of the women working up there looked at her curiously. Cassie showed her a desk in the corner, a view out to the lagoon a welcome sight to the cramped space.
“You can use this one,” Cassie told her. “Maceo doesn’t care how you personalize it as long as you’re happy—but it doesn’t sound like you’ll be using it a lot. I hear you’re to be our new scout?”
Ori detected an undertone to her words but decided to ignore it. She didn’t want to fall out with anyone on her first day. “Apparently so. I’m excited to start”
Cassie took her through the computer and phone system, then showed her the bathrooms and kitchen, making them both a rather weak coffee. Ori sipped it, grateful despite the taste. Her nerves had only gotten worse since she got to the gallery. Cassie left her alone at her desk, and Ori took the chance to catch her breath and survey her surroundings. A small dark girl waved at her from across the room, and Ori smiled at her. The girl came over and sat on Ori’s desk.
“Hello, I’m Sirena, Maceo’s intern. Anything you need, just ask. I love your scarf”
Ori smiled at her. Sirena had a warm, friendly face, and merry, twinkling eyes. “I will, thank you”
They chatted easily for a few minutes before Maceo reappeared and spirited Ori away to his office. She was glad to see that the door had no window in it because as soon as it was shut, Maceo pushed her up against it and kissed her. She responded to his lips, but then gently pushed him away. “Maceo … I don’t think this appropriate at work”
Mace grinned good-naturedly and steered her to the couch. “Fair enough … although, seeing you in that dress, damn …” He leaned across to nuzzle her neck, and she couldn’t resist the feel of his lips on her throat. “I want to be inside you, Ori …’”
Her moan of desire gave her away, and in one movement she was under him. Mace pushed the skirt of her dress up as she fumbled with his fly and in seconds, he was thrusting into her. It was a quick, hard, dirty fuck, which left them both laughing and panting for air.
As she tidied herself up afterward, feeling his cum start to trail down her thigh, she rammed her legs together and gave him a disapproving look. “You just broke all my rules”
Maceo was grinning and unrepentant. “Bella, you have this effect on me. I cannot help how I feel. Now.” He sat down behind his desk and pulled her down onto his lap, “Tomorrow you and I fly to Paris. I have meetings set up for us all day at the George V. Potential new clients, all of them. Then the next day, we will scout some Parisian artists. My friend Benoit is already looking forward to seeing you again”
Maceo, Ori was discovering, worked at breakneck speed. “Paris? Tomorrow?”
Maceo grinned. “I told you this would be an exciting opportunity. We fly at ten a.m.”
Ori stepped out onto the balcony of their hotel suite. Paris, its lights twinkling in the dusk, stretched out before her. She breathed in the cool night air and listened to the sounds of the traffic drifting up from the streets below. They had been here for two days, and it had been a dream. Meeting prospective clients had been nerve-racking, but she found Maceo could charm anyone. He was aware of her nerves and guided her through the meetings, giving her tips on what the clients liked and what they expected, and soon she was finding her footing. They had dinner with a couple of Maceo’s oldest and most loyal customers, and then Maceo had taken her back to their suite and fucked her brains out all night long.
Ori laughed to herself now. She couldn’t describe it any other way. Maceo, his grin broad and confident, had taken her on the floor, against the wall, in the shower— even, when the night was darkest, out here on the balcony, muffling her cries of pleasure with his hand so they didn’t draw attention to themselves. She shivered now, reliving the pleasure of his cock driving into her, his strong hands on her body.
She started as he slid his arms around her waist now, kissing her ear, her neck, her shoulder.
“Mio caro,” he whispered, his fingers splaying out on her belly, warming her skin through her thin cotton dress. “Don’t turn around”
Ori felt him ease her legs apart and lift her skirt from behind. She gazed out at the night as he slid gently into her and then she sighed as he began to move, one hand cupping her throat, his lips on her neck, the other hand finding her clit and kneading and rubbing until she was shuddering. She knew instinctively that this was not the time for screaming, but a slow, sensually journey to ecstasy.
She shivered through one, two, three orgasms as he murmured what he’d like to do to her, and she felt him stiffen before hot semen pumped deep into her belly. She leaned back into his big strong frame, breathing hard. Maceo kissed her cheek. “Are you okay?”
Ori laughed. “God, Maceo, how can you even ask? You’re amazing”
“As are you, mio caro. Come, let’s sit a while; we still have time before we have to change for dinner”
They were going out to eat with Maceo’s friend Benoit and a date, and Ori was nervous and excited to finally see another part of Maceo’s life.
Maceo lit a cigarette and gazed at her. “Caro … would you do something for me?”
“Of course”
He leaned forward. “Would you strip for me?”
Ori was taken aback but smiled. “If you’d like”
She stood and slowly peeled her dress off, followed by her bra and panties, and stood before him. Maceo ran his eyes slowly over her body. “You are perfect. Do you know that?”
Ori laughed, embarrassed at the compliment but not about her nakedness. She could not feel shy with this man; he made her feel like a goddess. “Your eyesight may be failing you, old man,” she joked, and Maceo grinned.
“If anything, it’s improved. Come here to me” He held his arms out, and she slid onto his lap, curling up in his arms, totally vulnerable. “How is it no one has snapped you up, taken you to their castle, and hidden you away?”
Ori felt a jolt. An image of her stepfather flashed across her vision, binding her, holding her down, imprisoning her, and she suddenly felt exposed and ridiculous. She extracted herself from Maceo’s arms and slipped her dress back on.
“Caro, did I say something to upset you?” His eyes were curious and concerned. She shook her head.
“It’s not you, Maceo.” She tried to smile at him, but he leaned forward.
“What is it?”
She shook her head. “Please, Maceo, let’s not spoil our evening by talking about … my past.”
Another long pause. “As you wish.”
After they had changed for dinner, mostly in thoughtful silence, Maceo took her hand. “I hope you will get to know Benoit better,” he said. “He is one of my oldest friends.”
Ori asked him about his and Ben’s friendship.
“We met in college—he and I, and our other friends, Lisander, Seth, and Alex. All five of us were driven and knew what we wanted. And by and large, twenty-odd years later, we all have it. The press calls us The Midnight Club because we all share a birthday—same time of day as well as date and year.”
Ori’s eyes opened wide. “That’s an incredible coincidence.”
“Isn’t it? We were obviously meant to be friends. When is your birthday, mio caro?”
“November 13th.”
“I shall remember. Start thinking about where you would like to go.”
Ori stopped him. “Maceo … I know how the game is played. You don’t have to say such things. I’m not looking for a commitment here … and I know you’re not.”
There was an expressio
n she couldn’t read in his eyes. “I’m not?”
She kissed him. “It’s okay, Maceo. It really is. I’m not naïve to the world, especially the world of a drop-dead gorgeous, extremely eligible billionaire like you. Why would you commit when you could have anyone? All I ask is that you’re honest with me.”
The elevator door opened as she finished speaking and Maceo, all humor gone from his face, was silent as they walked to their waiting cab. In the car on the way to the restaurant they didn’t speak, but Maceo held her hand, his fingers knotted between hers. Ori glanced over at him as he stared out of the window. Maybe he’d never had a woman say that to him, and that’s what was throwing him. Ori knew she had made the right decision to say what she had; it was a way of protecting her heart because, God knew, Maceo had been battering down the walls that she’d spent years building around it. She could not risk falling in love with him. She would not risk that.
At the restaurant, Benoit and his date were already waiting, and Maceo, his mood seeming to lighten, introduced her. Ori was touched by the note of pride she heard in his voice as he introduced her.
Benoit Vaux was in the same league as Maceo, she decided—charming, ruthless and devastatingly handsome. The two men shared the same brooding quality, but Benoit seemed more serious than Maceo. His date, Marcella, was an Audrey Hepburn lookalike, all grace and elegance, but a very sweet nature. Ori chatted happily with her as the two men talked about business.
“You have certainly made an impression on Maceo.” Marcella told her, smiling, “I can’t remember the last time he introduced us to a date.”
Ori was surprised but kept her counsel. “How long have you and Benoit been together?”
Marcella smiled. “Oh, we’re not together in that sense. I mean, we do spend time together, shall we say, but we’re not a couple. Just very good friends. Benoit does not have the time to commit to a full relationship.”
Ori frowned. “Like Maceo.”
Marcella looked taken aback. “No, I don’t think so. Anyway, my dear, to answer your question, Benoit pays very well for my company. Not that I wouldn’t do it for free, you understand, but he insists.”
Nightclub Surprise Page 53
