by Bex Dane
"It's my name. Seth Falcon Hendrix. Don't forget it. Remind yourself in your sleep." He bent his head to whisper in my ear. "Seth… Falcon… Hendrix."
Gah! He was such an arrogant prick! Why did I even let him kiss me?
"In fact, now that I got my in, I want you to confess three things. Maybe four." He straightened and crossed his arms over his chest, making his tattoos come to life as his biceps bulged.
"You don't need to list them. You have no in and I won't admit anything to you. It can't be that good."
"Oh it can. And you want it."
I pushed his chest but he didn't budge.
"Admit you're a beard for Thorne."
I shook my head.
"Come clean about the six women who were murdered in St. Amalie."
Oh no. No. This wasn't happening. He wouldn't go there.
"Own who you are and where you came from."
Yes, he would go there. The man had no limits. Pain and anger warred in my stomach. I wanted to hit him and scream and yell, but I held it back. I put on my Aida warrior princess face and said firmly, "Never."
His mouth turned down into a frown. "Then we're done here."
He kept his eyes on me as he stepped away. He knew they were his greatest weapon, and he used them without mercy. His heat left me. My body, still on fire for him, began to cool with cold fury.
I was formulating a response when a knock sounded at the door. Matteo opened it and began to walk in with a smile on his face. He stopped when he saw Falcon blocking his way. Falcon's chest rose and fell with his deep breaths. His hands were away from his body, his shoulders hung low, and something huge made a bump in the front of his warrior costume.
My hands gripped the desk as if to hold me up. Or hold me back.
Matteo's gaze flitted from me to Falcon and back again. Boy, what a sight we must be. His shocked face morphed into a forced smile. He could not have missed the thick, heated, angry, sexy air in the room. "Aida, mi amor. May I speak privately with you?" Matteo's Italian accent and his deep baritone voice made everything he said intimate, friendly, and classy. The opposite of Falcon.
"Of course. Falcon, please give us a moment alone?"
Falcon's gaze assessed Matteo. He grabbed his gun and shoved it into the waistband of his costume. He gripped his staff and walked briskly past Matteo, warning in his eyes.
Matteo had smiled politely since he'd entered the room, but he dropped the act as soon as the door closed. "What the hell did I walk in on?"
With Falcon gone, I could breathe again, think again.
I stood up and straightened my dress. "Nothing. You walked in on nothing."
Matteo threw his head back and laughed. "Mi amor, I am no fool. The tension between you two blasted me in the face."
Oh shit. Darn.
"Matteo..."
"And here I thought tonight was for me."
"Let me…"
He held up his palm flat facing me and tucked his chin in a self-deprecating way. "No. I get it. You did this for him. I am the casualty on the stage next to you thinking I'd won the keys to the city."
Holy cannoli, I'd created such a mess.
I couldn't lie to him and deny it. I had used him to get to Falcon. And now I had to face the consequences.
"I'm sorry I misled you."
He raised one cautious eye to glare at me, but his lips twitched. He never held onto anger, and the performance drew a huge standing ovation. "What about Thorne?"
"Please keep this private. Nothing has happened. It's just a game we were playing."
"Oh this is so juicy. You're playing games with a super?"
"Not anymore. Just tonight. And he's not only a super. He's my bodyguard."
His stage makeup made his naughty smile and wide eyes look macabre. "Do tell. What kind of game are you playing with your bodyguard super?"
"I'm not. It has to stop."
"Who says? Let's drive him wild with jealousy at the next performance too."
That drew a chuckle from me despite the upheaval inside my head.
I wanted to say no. I should end this game with Falcon. The man exemplified the word asshole. We had zero chance of a future as a couple. If he continued to dig into my secrets, my fragile grip on my sanity would slip. I could lose myself, my career, Thorne's trust, and all the progress I had made toward finding my mother.
And yet, none of that mattered. I wanted to kiss him again regardless of the turmoil it would cause in my life. My inner muse wanted to see his piercings. She wanted to touch them and them to touch her. She ached to moan for him.
My inner muse confused me a lot. She had guided me to many correct decisions over the years. She'd helped me to pick songs and sing them in a way that captured the audience's emotions. But she'd also led me astray when it came to men. She'd picked losers for me and made me think I should love them when she was wrong. My heart had grown weary. She'd lost my trust from years of earning me broken hearts. She'd also romanticized Primitivo. She saw him as some kind of superhero who saved her and impressed her with his ways. Stupidly, she'd developed a crush on his memory.
But yesterday was gone. My inner muse was the old me. An illogical child motivated by insecurity and the need to be loved. Today was all that mattered. Today Aida was confident and secure. She could lock horns with someone strong like Falcon and win. Aida had declared war and victory would prevail.
"Tomorrow is going to be even hotter than tonight," I said with an evil smile.
"Yes, yes, it will. And pure torture for me because I adore you so."
"I adore you too, Matteo. I'm sorry you got dragged into this."
He waved a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about me." He came closer and caressed my upper arms. "Be careful, yes? Games like these can turn ugly fast. I know because I have done similar things, and my heart has still not recovered."
I smiled and pulled him in for a hug. "I will."
His hands caressed up and down my back, stopping at the base of my spine. "If he hurts you, come to me. I will ease your pain. Whatever you need. Sex, love, friendship, I am yours to be used."
Matteo's fans would die to hear him say such things. "Thank you, Matteo."
We had five performances over the next twelve days at the Met. Falcon would have to have superhuman self-control to hold out on me till then.
I'd break him.
He'd make me moan, and I'd give him no information.
It would be a dangerous battle royale.
But no matter what, I would not answer his questions, and in the end, I'd use him to get what I wanted.
To win.
Chapter 10
Three weeks into my bodyguard-imposed confinement, and Falcon hadn't allowed any excursions except the shows at the Met. I needed friends, air, food, and some hint at normalcy.
He'd said no the first two times I'd asked. I'd chosen the wrong times. I'd asked him after the show, after the kissing and refusing to answer his questions. He'd taken pleasure in denying my request and walking out with his hard-on under his skirt.
Last night, I'd changed tactics. I'd asked him after the show, but before he'd cornered me and tortured me with kisses. "Please," I said. "All I ask is dinner out with Soledad. She's my dearest friend, and I need to connect."
He'd agreed hastily, eager to advance to the kissing portion of our evening and replay our game; Make out until I nearly lose my mind, stop, ask the questions, refuse to answer, leave each other frustrated and angry, go home and masturbate.
So four nights in a row, we had done our battle and left the war room in a tense standstill.
Tonight was a dark night, and Falcon arranged a dinner at Giando on the Water with Soledad.
The last five minutes had passed awkwardly between Soledad and Falcon as they reunited for the first time in twenty-two years.
She had walked up to him and said, "Primitivo." Her face looked stiff and she didn't smile. Could have been her recent botox injection or, more likely, Falcon intimidated her w
ith his scowl.
"Falcon," he answered back coldly.
"Right. Falcon." Soledad had waited a few seconds to see if he would say anything else. When he didn't, she had turned to me on the balcony and raised her pencil-thin eyebrows in an okay, whatever gesture.
We had hugged and ordered drinks, and now we were sitting together at a lovely table with a fabulous view of the Manhattan Bridge as we waited for our food.
"The critics are raving over your Aida run at the Met." Soledad sipped from her green-apple martini as we sat alone in the terrace dining area. We had the entire section to ourselves.
"Yes. Matteo is in prime form." I fingered the stem of my martini glass.
"So are you, my dear. The reviews all mention your seduction of the audience."
"Mmm." I glanced at Falcon standing guard at the door to the terrace.
"Looking at him reminds me of my glory days. I was young and starting out in a new country. My whole life ahead of me. Primitivo grew up to be an attractive man." She eyed him over her drink as she took a sip.
I loved Soledad. She was like my big sister, but a hidden tigress inside me bared her claws, then quickly retracted them. Yes, she had slept with Falcon twenty-two years ago, but she'd been married and faithful to her husband for nineteen years. She hadn't even spoken to Falcon since then.
"You can still have him. He prefers married women," I said.
Her eyes grew wide. "I would never cheat on Taye. You know that. He worships me and I him. I will never stray."
"I know. Taye is wonderful."
"I still can't fathom Primitivo working as your bodyguard. It's surreal. I don't know what I expected for him, but not this."
"For me too," I replied. Who would have ever thought Primitivo would reappear, not with my mother, but as my bodyguard?
"He can't be hurting for cash," she said.
"How would you know?"
"I can't say." She looked down into her drink.
"Spill, Soledad." Falcon had told me nothing in the three weeks since we'd reunited. He still chatted up Babette and Leticia before a show, but for me, nothing except for denying my excursion requests and challenging me to admit things I would never admit.
"It's nothing. It's just... He had money as far as I knew."
Falcon had money? "How much money?"
She leaned in to whisper, "It was rumored to be over twenty-five million all those years ago." She leaned back in her chair. "I have no idea how money like that appreciates."
Falcon a millionaire? The man who grunted and scratched his balls at least eight times a day? "I shouldn't think of him differently because you told me that, but I do." It made him even more attractive, and he was already damn hot.
"Why? What did you think of him before?"
"Well, I figured he did all he does for me out of obligation, but maybe not. He's doing a very thorough job. No one has come near me."
Her eyebrows dipped. "He's protecting you because he wants to?"
"I don't know. Thorne hired him. Falcon said no at first, but now he's crazy overboard about keeping me safe. He even wore a warrior skirt and tights to act as a super so he can be closer when I'm on stage."
She eyed him again and pressed her lips together in an ironic smile. "How noble of him."
The waiter brought me a steaming plate of shrimp scampi and placed Soledad's lobster and steak plate in front of her. I took a bite of shrimp and chewed on this new information.
I leaned in closer to Soledad so I could whisper. "Do you think he blew through twenty-five million, and he has to work as a bodyguard to pay his bills?"
Her nose tilted up and she inspected him from head to toe. "No. Look at him. He obviously doesn't shop."
I had to laugh because Falcon's black cargo pants and T-shirt made him appear underdressed for a posh Manhattan restaurant. Not sure why he didn't wear his suit tonight. He looked good in his uniform, but rocked a suit. "He was in the Army too, so he had a salary from that."
"Was he? Also noble." She carefully cut a bite of lobster, dipped it in butter and artfully placed it in her mouth.
"Now I'm curious what he did with all that money. Where did he get it? Certainly not from the Army. They don't pay that much, do they? He's so confusing. I don't understand anything about him."
Her pretty brown eyes stared at me for a long time. She must've had her eyes done. I didn't see one wrinkle. "I never told you this because it didn't matter, but now it's time."
"Time for what?"
"Time you know the truth."
My chest grew tight like a sponge after it's been squeezed dry. "You're scaring me. What truth?"
She leaned forward, elbows on the table. "He paid for everything. Our apartment in New York, your first car, our tuitions to Juilliard." She used a gentle tone, like saying it softly would make pulling the rug from under my feet less painful.
"He paid? Our tuitions? You said we won grants."
"I stretched the truth on that. Falcon gave us a grant."
I trusted Soledad and rarely caught her lying to me or anyone else. Everything I thought I knew about her changed when she admitted she lied. "Why?"
Soledad looked down, took a deep breath, and when she looked up into my eyes, I saw compassion there. "The money belonged to his father. He stole it when he left the country and asked me not to tell you. He wanted you to feel free from your ties to Guillermo. A clean break for both of us. Even after you became financially independent, he continued to send money, but I haven't touched it in years."
"When was the last time you used his money to help me?"
"Remember when you fell deep into debt when the Enrique scandal hit and no one would hire you?"
"Of course. That was an awful time."
"I used his money then to help you avoid bankruptcy."
A sheen of sweat broke out on my skin, and I had to force myself to keep my voice down. "Oh my God! Does he know about that?"
"No. I never told him anything about you until he called me a month ago."
Well at least there was that. Okay. I could handle this. Soledad did it to protect me. Falcon must've had his reasons too. Reasons I may never know. Maybe he felt guilty for not finding my mother. "So Falcon is my benefactor?"
"You could say that."
This changed a lot of things. Or did it? I felt humiliated and angry. And suddenly enraged when I realized...
"Wait a minute. So he paid for my schooling with drug money? Dirty, filthy money earned on the backs of the women who worked for Guillermo?" My own mother sold herself for him. Drug money, gun money, so many lives lost. I would've never accepted it if I had known.
"That's one way to look at it. I prefer to call it doing a good deed to give us a new start." She reached across the table to take my hand.
"I prefer to call it a huge lie." I pushed my food out of the way to make room for our hands on the table and placed my hand over hers. I didn't feel hungry anymore, and my evening out was ruined.
"What's going on with you two?" She glanced at him again.
"Nothing." He had been watching us, but when we looked at him, he turned his head away. He crossed his immense arms over his chest, and my gaze was drawn to his large, black watch. So substantial and manly on his corded forearms. I didn't see any concern or worry in his face. Hopefully, he didn't hear our conversation through some secret listening device.
"He keeps looking over here at you."
"He's supposed to do that. Part of his job."
"Oh please. Tell me everything. I told you the truth. Now you tell me." She patted our hands with her free hand, encouraging me to trust her.
"Okay. We've been kissing," I whispered the last word.
"Kissing?" Her head drew back and her chin tilted down. She looked at me like a schoolmaster looks over her bifocals—only she wasn't wearing glasses.
"Yes, four times. After the dress rehearsal and the first three showings of Aida at the Met."
"After?"
"In my dressin
g room."
"Really?"
"Yep."
"And Thorne?"
"Thorne doesn't know." Soledad knew my relationship with Thorne was open and I was free to kiss other men as long as the press didn't find out.
"Amazing." She released my hands and stared at Falcon in open wonder.
"Yeah."
"Just kissing?" Her brows came down and lines formed on her forehead. She had slipped into the role of caring mother and the wrinkles gave away her age.
"Yes. A little caressing," I admitted.
"He doesn't seem like the kind of man to stop at little caresses."
"Nope. It's more like groping to be honest. Then we fight and he leaves."
"He leaves?"
"He changes into his street clothes and drives me home in angry silence. Then he's off duty until the next show, and we do it again."
My vibrators ran out of batteries each night. I had to call down to the concierge to get more triple As sent up, but I was winning. He was close to breaking. I could tell by the grumble in his voice and the desperation when he attacked me.
"If I try to reach under his costume, he rebuffs me, moving my hands back up to his abs, which always distracts me and I forget what I was doing."
She laughed. "Well that sounds delicious."
"It's not funny. It's pure torture. Two more nights. Then it's over."
"Why?"
"I'm ending it."
"Why on earth would you do that? It sounds fabulous."
"He challenged me. It's a stupid game and it has to end."
"Tell me the details."
"I can't." How could I possibly tell her he wouldn't make me moan like he made her moan unless I admitted a lot of things I never wanted to admit?
"I love seeing you like this. It's like the old days. Remember Enrique and the games you played?"
"Remember the trouble I got into by playing those games? The public crucified me. Thus the almost-bankruptcy, which apparently Falcon saved me from."
She shook her head. "This is different. This is Primitivo de la Cruz! Guillermo's oldest son. The history between you two makes this epic. How absolutely fantastic!"
"It has to end." I had tonight and tomorrow to push him over the edge. He would break and make me moan without any answers to his stupid questions. "Thorne comes back after the final show. We'll be living as a married couple. I can't sneak away to kiss Falcon. I don't even want to kiss him anymore now that I know his father's money helped me become who I am."
