Tara sat up straight and pointed at the screen. “I’m sorry. Um - you have photos of me?”
Walking over so he could see the screen he saw the document with the pictures of her. “They did recon before they sent me in, or someone did.”
“That party was a month ago, just before Gianni left for Venice. The other photos are over the last week.” She was staring at the one at the top of the document, the one where she was looking over her shoulder in that black dress that had caught his attention.
“I’m sorry if it freaks you out.” He reached forward and clicked the laptop closed.
“It doesn’t, it’s just – odd. If you didn’t know better, we look so happy.” Tara looked up at him and shrugged.
“I’m sure Gianni was, and you already proved to me that you can act. Remember? I saw you play drunk when we first got to the hotel.” Alaric lifted the laptop off the table and headed into the bedroom.
Tara twisted in the chair to watch him. “Apparently Gianni could act too, because he wasn’t happy with me. He was dating someone, a real someone. That’s why he sold me.”
“You’re real.” He looked over at her as he repacked the messenger bag, wondering how he was going to secure it when they went to see Claude. He couldn’t take it into his club.
“You’re wrong.” Her response almost cracked his composure again. He wanted to yell at her, wanted to shake her and convince her she was real, and worth something, and that she should fight this, that she should fight him. Bloody hell, she should run.
He knew if she tried, he’d let her.
But she wouldn’t try. She didn’t even want to.
“If you say so, Tara.” He dropped the messenger bag onto the bed a little harder than necessary, and then he walked back into the living room. “Grab the room service menu, we need to eat before we leave.”
Tara got up and grabbed the menu immediately, and brought it over to him like he’d asked her to fetch. Her obedience grated on his nerves. He hated that it was so natural that she hadn’t even paused. He didn’t say anything though, he just grabbed the menu and flipped it open.
“What would you like?” He forced himself to ask the question calmly.
“Whatever you want to order.”
Of course. Whatever I want.
Chapter Thirteen
With them both maintaining their calm, cool, and collected personas, the evening went smoothly. No more outbursts, no frustrating revelations. They had sat in the living room and watched a movie – well, Alaric had mainly watched her while it played. That had been difficult to ignore as she’d done her best to keep her eyes on the screen.
The open lines of communication seemed to be shut down again and that was for the best. He was a good man, he didn’t need to be dragged down into the world she lived in.
“Are you ready?” He finally spoke again and she wanted to cheer that the silent treatment was over. It was going to be a miserable couple of days if he stopped talking to her completely.
She looked down at the shiny black top that had a very low cut back, and the tight pants, capped off with the same high heels she’d worn that day. Just like with Gianni she didn’t need to check her makeup, she could have done it in the dark and it would have turned out the same.
Practice makes perfect.
“Yeah, I’m ready.” She fidgeted with her iPod, the low battery icon glowing in the corner like an impending panic attack. “While we’re out, do you have a way to charge my iPod?”
Alaric had stood up, but he stopped and turned around. “I’ll call the front desk and get a cable.” He walked back into the bedroom and picked up the phone, speaking softly in Italian. She saw him lock his laptop and several weapons inside the room safe before he came back out of the bedroom. “Leave it on the table, they said they will locate one and have it charging when we return.”
“Thank you, Alaric.” Tara clenched the iPod in her hand a moment before she set it down on the table.
He took a breath and then reached behind him, under his jacket, and took out the knife she’d used the night before on her arm. He held it out to her. “Do you have a place to hide this?” His eyes scanned down her, and she smiled and shook her head.
“I don’t, but I’ll be fine hand to hand if someone comes for me.” She shrugged and watched as he tucked the blade away again.
“I’m going to have to see you fighting hand to hand if you have that kind of confidence.” There wasn’t a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
“Don’t worry, if anyone shows up I’ll protect you.” Tara grinned and walked to the door.
The edge of his mouth turned up but he suppressed the smile. “Deal.”
The drive through Milan at night was much different when they weren’t in a car chase. First, Alaric moved the powerful car smoothly, changing lanes and turning down streets as if he had driven there for years. Second, Tara was actually able to watch the buildings go by, lit up beautifully.
“Claude owns the club we’re going to, but that’s not his main source of income. We’ll go back to his office to get your papers.” Alaric was speaking in that cold, distant way he had when he’d first come to get her. All business.
That was fine, but she was going to enjoy her few days of freedom.
“You said this morning that we could dance.”
He sighed, sounding exhausted by her already. “Yeah, I’m sure that will be fine.”
She smiled to herself. “Good, I haven’t been dancing in a while.”
“Gianni let you go dancing?” Alaric glanced over at her.
“He wasn’t that bad, Alaric. He was rarely violent, and he traveled for business a lot. I was alone with a small security team that watched his house, and me, most of the time.” She watched his grip on the wheel tighten, but he didn’t say anything. “Sometimes he felt guilty about leaving me alone, or because of something he did, and he’d have Emilio take me to the symphony, or the opera, or take me dancing.”
“What did -” Alaric cut himself off. “If you want to dance, you can. I won’t make you leave unless it’s dangerous.”
“Thank you.” Tara debated on whether or not to give him the heads up, but it wouldn’t be fair to him if someone claimed her and he had no idea what was happening. “Just so you know, if you see bands of light start to appear around my wrist, just get me away from whoever it is.”
“Why?”
“The bands of light mean that someone is about to claim me. As theirs. If they do claim me, you’re going to have to get them to give me up, or kill them.” Tara said it calmly, but Alaric braked hard at the next stoplight. “Or you can leave me with them.”
“I’m not leaving you with some prat at a club. No one is claiming you tonight. I’ll stay with you.” Alaric sounded on edge again, and it was bittersweet. She liked that he wanted to protect her, it was a nice change of pace, but it didn’t matter in the long run. He was going to have to leave her with his client, and then her life would change again.
The car stopped at a valet stand in front of a dark building where there was a line of people, dressed to party, huddling close to the wall. They were all staring at the sleek car, and while she didn’t know what it was, she knew it was nice enough to attract attention. The valet opened her car door and she stepped out while Alaric got out on his side. The guy stared at her for a moment and she smiled until he smiled back. Alaric came around and handed the key to the valet to get his attention.
“Be careful with it, please.” Alaric spoke in Italian again and the valet’s eyes lit up at the chance to drive the car. Turning away from the building he took out his phone as the car moved away, and Tara took a breath to calm her nerves as people looked her over.
Being unclaimed at a place like this felt like she was facing off with a pack of wolves – just waiting for which one would lunge first.
Alaric better be quick on his feet.
She heard him curse behind her and she turned to him. “What’s wrong?”
“
Claude isn’t answering. He said he was ready for us.” Alaric groaned and looked at the line of people waiting to get in. “What an asshole.”
“I can get us in, don’t worry about it.” Before he could respond to her she turned and walked up to the security guard at the front entrance.
The man’s eyes looked her over and she turned on a bright smile. “Any room inside?” Tara asked in Italian and stepped close to him.
“Maybe.” He kept his eyes on her, which was good. Emilio had explained to her that the clubs wanted girls inside, so she just had to make herself the most appealing option.
“I just really want to dance.” She tilted herself to the side a little, accentuating her curves. “Please?”
“Hmm -”
“Maybe you could come inside and dance with me? Someone could watch the door for you, right?” Tara made promises with her smile and he caved.
“Alright, go in. I’ll see you later.” He gave a very small smile when she kissed him on the cheek.
“Thank you!” Turning she waved at Alaric and he looked surprised as he came towards her. She rolled her eyes at the security guard and spoke quietly, “This is my security, I’m not allowed to go anywhere without him. It’s infuriating.”
Alaric stepped up beside her, and the security guard nodded at him. Alaric leaned in and whispered in her ear in Japanese, “What did you do?”
She rolled her eyes again to act like he was bothering her. “I’m going inside to dance, are you coming with me or staying with the car?”
The security guard laughed and Alaric crossed his arms before pointing inside without a word. Tara flashed a smile at the guard again and walked in. As soon as they stepped through the door Alaric paid the cover and Tara was enveloped in the deep pulse of the bass, the random collection of noises that coalesced into music that made her want to move.
Alaric tugged her to the side as another couple of people walked in. “What did you do to get us in here?” Tara’s back touched the wall behind her, and she wanted to run to the dance floor but his eyes nailed her there.
“I flirted with him, Alaric. It’s the same way I was able to get into every club before. I don’t have an ID, but Emilio said it didn’t matter because they wanted girls in the club. I just had to be interesting enough.” She sighed and then put on her big smile. “Come on, let’s dance.”
“I know that’s not a real smile, Tara, don’t use it on me.” Alaric turned and scanned the back wall. “You can dance after we see Claude.”
She let her face go smooth again. If he didn’t want her to act she wasn’t going to bother. Also, if she pissed him off he might not let her dance and who knew if she’d get to go dancing anytime in the next decade, and she liked modern music. There were no rules on dancing to it. “Okay, Alaric.”
He put a hand on her back where the low cut of her top meant his warm palm was directly on her skin. It was distracting as he guided her through the edge of the dance floor to the back wall where a door was set into it. Black on black it would have been impossible to see from afar, but Tara didn’t miss the camera attached to the ceiling above them.
Alaric pounded a fist on the door, and Tara tried to stay still but she wanted to move to the music. It wasn’t anything like a concerto. This kind of music made her pulse increase and made it hard to sit still. She found herself swaying, her hips shifting to the beat.
The door swung open and a suited man stared at them. “What.”
“Tell Claude it’s Alexander with the girl.” Alaric didn’t even flinch at the aggression coming from the security guard, but she imagined he wouldn’t be worried. Interesting that he called himself Alexander – was that his real name? Why had he told her Alaric? Had he lied?
The door shut again in their face and Alaric turned away from the camera. It was a subtle way to annoy the person who was probably going to try and use the camera to verify his identity.
Which was, apparently, either Alaric or Alexander.
If he hadn’t been honest with her, that was his choice. It wasn’t like he owed her anything, and she’d been surprised by his supposed honesty in the first place.
Tara found herself shifting her hips to the beat, and the music was so loud she could feel it in the floor and in her chest. She really wanted to dance.
The door opened again and this time the guard stood to the side so they could pass by. They walked down a short, dark hallway, and then another door opened to a white walled office. Very modern and sparsely decorated. A huge abstract painting hung behind the sleek black desk that had three computer screens set up across the left side. The man who stepped around the desk and clapped his hands together was almost too thin. The skinny jeans he wore exaggerated it and when he held his hand out to shake Alaric’s the difference in their size made Alaric’s broad shoulders stand out.
“Alexander, I’m sorry for not taking your call. I was busy, but I was just about to send Tony out for you.” Claude had a French accent and shining eyes that Tara quickly recognized came from drugs of some kind. “It does seem you made it inside though, and I can see why.” His glittering eyes looked her over and she made herself smile brightly.
Alaric may not like the way she smiled, but she hadn't had any complaints in centuries. A big smile made them nicer, it made them want to treat her well, and above all it made them want to keep her smiling.
That was for the best.
"So you need papers?" Claude asked her in Italian, completely ignoring Alaric as he stared at her. She could see Alaric tense in front of her.
“Yes, I need documents so I can leave the country if I need to." Tara replied in fluent French and she watched Claude's eyes widen. Alaric's hand twitched, but she was probably the only one that noticed.
“Come over here and let me look at you.” Claude replied in French with a smile and took a step back. Tara walked towards him, letting her hips sway, and his eyes didn’t miss the movement. As she passed Alaric he looked over at her and she could see his frustration brewing behind his eyes. In the light of the room the green flecks stood out – he really was handsome, and growing more irritated by the minute.
“Can you make the documents tonight?” Alaric spoke up as she reached Claude, and he joined them in speaking French.
Claude took her hand and lifted it above her head before spinning a finger as he wordlessly asked her to turn around. She did, and when her back was to Claude she noticed the forced blank expression on Alaric's face.
“Magnificent!” Claude leaned forward and pressed a kiss to each of her cheeks as she faced him again, and then he snapped his fingers. “I've never let you down, Alexander, now have I? Tony, get the camera.” Tony must have been prepared because from a small side room he brought a camera and a tripod. He set it up and Claude pointed to the wall. “I need your picture…” He paused, waiting for her name.
“Tara.” She filled in and he smiled.
Alaric crossed his arms as he watched, his face expressionless as Tara put her back to the wall and Claude moved behind the camera. He pressed a few buttons and then looked over the camera at her. “Smile.” She did and the camera flashed - once, twice, three times.
She blinked as the ghost images of the flash floated in her vision, and she had the urge to rub her eyes but stopped when she remembered all of her makeup.
Claude gestured to the camera and Tony stepped forward to take it. “Make a British passport, give it a few stamps so it doesn't look so new. Make sure the most recent is Italy, we don't need that mistake again.” Tony nodded as he grabbed the camera, still silent, and walked into the room at the side, which held all kinds of equipment. When the door shut again it was almost invisible in the white walls of the office.
“Thank you, Claude. When will it be ready? And what do I owe you?” Alaric stepped forward and Claude waved a hand at him, not taking his eyes off her.
Claude smiled and pulled his chair to the edge of his desk before sitting down. “Come here, Tara.” He pointed at the floor in
front of him and her stomach did a flip, but her smile came back automatically. She'd taken two steps forward when Alaric grabbed her arm and stopped her.
“I asked you what we owe you.” Alaric spoke through his teeth, and she knew that everything was about to go wrong if she didn’t curb whatever protective streak he had summoned up.
“I'd say that amount is currently very negotiable.” Claude smiled as his eyes devoured her. He was making it pretty clear that he wanted her, but Alaric's hand just tightened on her arm.
“Alaric, it's okay –” she whispered, but he held up his other hand and she stopped talking.
“It's not negotiable, Claude.” His voice was on edge, and Tara tried to talk again to calm the situation down, but his grip quickly bordered on painful. She felt herself detaching from everything on instinct, she could do this like she'd done a million times before. She could please Claude, make him happy, and smooth the trouble brewing between them - but Alaric turned and glared at her as if he knew what she was thinking. He was actually angry when he spoke again, “Go outside, Tara. Now.”
His eyes were blazing, and the direct command put her teeth on edge. From her experience with him this was completely out of character, especially after his rant about her being a real person. Having him grab her, order her around, treat her like everyone else usually did pissed her off. Her old temper flared in her stomach and she did the only thing that would really push his buttons.
She pulled her arm from his grip and gave a half bow, half curtsy since she was in pants, and kept her gaze on the floor as she spoke in her most obedient tone, “Of course, sir.” Then she turned and walked down the hall, her heels clicking evenly on the floor until she reached the door. Pushing it open harder than necessary she stepped out into the dark of the club. The beat and pulse of the music slammed into her again, sparking in her blood like music always did for her. Tara growled under her breath as she took in the sea of shifting bodies, the clash and clatter of the song and voices and laughter.
Tara Page 10
