She lifted the spray bottle of glitter and put a light coating over her legs and chest. A quick fluff of her curls and she swept a shawl from the bottom drawer of her bureau. Keys, money and ID fit the little purse with a gold chain strap she dropped over her head and let rest on her hip.
Now she would tell him just where to go and how to get there.
Bailey left the apartment, locked up and ran carefully down the stairs to the waiting white town car. She was grateful this driver didn’t feel like talking. He just asked her name and opened the door for her.
Chapter Fourteen
Mah Chow tipped her dark head to the side and watched the tall, handsome man enter her shop on Friday evening. Alone. She waited until he approached her. He did not have the look of a man abandoned and she frowned. That meant her little red was going to be in trouble. If not already.
“You wish dinner?”
“Please. What we had the other night to take with me.”
“She is not home,” the Vietnamese woman said simply, instantly aware of the look in his eyes. A burning mixture of anger and concern. Interesting, she mused. “I watch apartment from here. She went out to white car again. Like last week. Only tonight, dress is red and not enough of it.” She scolded like only a mother could.
“Another white car?” Gabriel had his phone out and tapped the number he’d programed there that morning. “Thank you. I’ll have to take a rain check on the food. I’m afraid I have to track down Bailey.”
“Take care of little red,” she told him, nodding and watching him move briskly from the restaurant and break into a run across the street to the apartments.
Gabriel pounded on the door after taking the stairs two at a time. When there wasn’t an answer, but her phone still registered as there, he opened his wallet and pulled a few slim pieces of metal from inside. The lock popped and the door slid wide a minute later.
He stood staring down at the phone vibrating on the table. The rectangle slid open when he lifted it and he thumbed through the menu, found the last text and read it quickly. He made certain the door locked behind him as he walked to the elevator, his own phone out and a call placed to Lieutenant Templeton.
****
Bailey stepped from the white town car and strolled toward the garishly lit large building. This was very, very different than the club that belonged to Gabriel. The atmosphere was almost electric and pulsing with energy, alcohol and probably drugs, she guessed. She definitely did not like the way she was being watched. It made her feel twitchy and uncomfortable.
She tried to make it seem casual but her stomach was doing somersaults. Some people milled around outside, their clothing easily identifying them as part of the culture swarming around the building. It amazed her how some chose for leather from head to toe while others looked like they were wrapped in leather strings that barely covered all the sexy bits. She let the shawl drift down her arms, tightened her back and held her head up as she crossed the sidewalk and went through the open doors.
She paid the entrance fee and wandered through the swinging doors that made her think she was stepping into an old west saloon. But on the other side of the doors was as far from that as could be imagined. Bailey knew she was staring and had to seriously work to keep the gasps inside her.
This was very different from Gabriel’s club. It felt louder. The music wasn’t blaringly loud, but a different, more now sound. The people weren’t the least bit inhibited or restrictive in how they stared at you, boldly taking in anything that caught their attention with suggestive eye movement that included mouthing suggestions.
Including the arrival of new meat.
“I think you’d better take this one,” the receptionist had pressed a small button on the blue tooth she had attached to her ear. “Redhead in red dress. She said she’s here to meet someone. I asked who and all she said was Gabriel.”
“Garrett?” Surprise etched itself on the single word. “He hasn’t been here in years.”
“And I think she’s attracting attention. If she is waiting for him…”
“I’ll be right down,” Heather Malcolm ended the call and went to the door of the office she had on the second floor. Gabriel Garrett was her silent partner and she liked it that way. Black heels clicked smartly over the tiles as she made her way to the railing above the main room. Definitely new meat and decidedly prey for half the room at the moment.
Bailey almost jumped out of the clinging red dress when the riding crop tapped on her shoulder. She’d tried staying to the edge. Tried keeping the wall at her back because people kept coming up behind her and touching or whispering lewd suggestions in her ear. Her heart hadn’t stopped hammering since she came through the doors.
“Oh, no, thank you,” came the rushed out words and a nervous little laugh as she spun and faced a woman with a black cap atop some blonde curls. Bailey felt the whimper deep in her throat, her eyes quickly sweeping down the taut leather bustier and short skirt. In heels, the woman was easily six foot tall and drop dead gorgeous. Bailey’s head went back but she wasn’t able to back away as the woman had crowded close to her.
“I didn’t mean to startle you. My name is Heather.”
“Bailey,” she answered quickly, dark lashes wide as she continued watching the entrance.
“My receptionist told me you were here to meet someone and she was concerned,” she met the instantly appreciative glance. “How about a drink? Gabriel’s a friend of mine and Micky will send him to the bar when he shows up.”
“You’re a friend of his?” Bailey asked, a bit of quiet dismay in her voice.
“Not that kind of friend, pet. Business partner, if you will. He helped me start the club a few years ago. Let’s go over here. It’s a little quieter,” she gently put her hand on Bailey’s waist and led her across the floor, the look on her face daring anyone to touch the redhead.
Bailey closed her eyes for a minute and walked. Not that she was used to a woman putting her hand on her waist, but adjusting was her middle name lately. Kind of like adjusting to being called ‘pet’. She was convinced it was the clubs version of ‘hun’ if you lived in the south.
“You’re beautiful. And the club is…I’m still getting used to it, I think,” she said when they were at the far end of the bar, a young waiter immediately arriving to serve them. “Water, please.”
“It makes you nervous,” she guessed leaning against the bar stool, long legs stretched out in front of her. “And thank you for the compliment. You’re quite lovely, as well. It’s too bad I’m guessing you only like males if you’re with Gabriel.”
“He’s most definitely very male,” Bailey agreed with a nervous laugh. “He’s going to be very angry with me.”
“Ahh...disobeyed instructions, did you?” Heather grinned at the green eyes that were up and instantly back down.
“I…it’s supposed to be black. My dress,” she sighed, dark red curls shaking slightly. “But he made me so very angry. We had dinner on Tuesday and he said he’d see me the next day only he didn’t. And all week, nothing. Not a word. Fine, alright. I can deal with that. But then…then this morning the paper…I was stupid to think…I was just stupid.”
“The paper,” Heather lifted the tonic water with a lime floating inside and sipped, alert eyes taking in the people watching the redhead like swarming predatory hawks. “I saw the photo. It’s not like Gabriel to dabble outside once he’s made a choice,” she met the hesitantly raised gaze. “Since we’re chatting like girlfriends, it’s alright to look at me, Bailey. If Gabriel’s your master,” she raised one hand, her finger tracing the thin strip of leather around the very pale throat. “And I’m guessing this is his,” she saw the instant answer in the deep green eyes. “He’s a lenient master, usually. People who are honest with themselves, and uncover either their dominant or submissive side, enjoy the play. Some to the more extreme, others simply because it’s a huge part of their nature.” She watched the sub closely. “So he didn’t call you?”<
br />
“No. Then out of nowhere, he sent me orders and I was furious,” Bailey whispered slowly. “I picked this dress instead of a black one and I intend to tell him I’m not taking…I can’t...”
“You intended to give him the boot,” Heather supplied with a chuckle, the crop she held in her hand tapping the collar again. “But this says differently, Bailey.”
“I know,” she propped her elbows on the edge of the bar and let her forehead fall into her palms. “I know.”
“Being submissive doesn’t make you weak, Bailey. Neither does it make you weak when you discover that you care about someone,” she met the wide gaze with a little shrug. “I’m good at reading people. And I know Gabe. He would never have given you that collar if there wasn’t more involved than just occasional play dates. And to be honest, from things I’ve heard, he hasn’t involved himself in more than the play portion for a year or more.”
“Women at the club were falling all over him.”
“It’s his choice to politely decline, Bailey. You had that option,” she saw the answer in the green eyes. “Negligent, perhaps. Why don’t you go into the more public bar and relax?” Heather stood up and gestured to another set of doors. “It’s less crowded and more mainstream. When Gabe shows up, I’ll tell him where you are and you’ll get hit on there, don’t doubt that, but it won’t be quite so…extreme.”
“I think something stronger than water might be a good idea,” her nose twitched at the scents of food as they moved through the wide, short corridor and into a more lighted, open area. “I think I missed dinner again.”
“Chuck, keep an eye on my redhead here, would you?” Heather spoke to the bartender after guiding Bailey to a quiet corner. “She belongs to Garrett and I don’t want to be on his bad side.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Chuck went to Bailey with a large glass of water. “What’ll you have?”
Heather Malcolm strode leisurely through her club. Eyes well trained looked from one scene to another. Approval, admiration and interest at the imagination some people possessed always amazed her. Then she heard the familiar voice.
“I don’t care where she is, find her,” growled Gabriel Garrett. “Now.”
“Stop terrorizing my staff,” Heather came around from the side, her arm linked with his. “You haven’t been here in ages. And I appreciate that,” she taunted with a low laugh at the scowl on his face. Oh, the little redhead had him all bound up in knots without a single strand of rope in sight.
Gabriel glared at her. In those damn heels she was almost as tall as him and still built like a sailor’s finest wet dream.
“No one to torment tonight?” He’d bit back the instant demand about Bailey, his gaze sweeping what he could see in frustration.
“I found a cute little redhead, but she’s not into girls,” Heather offered a crooked grin. “I put her some place safe for you. Is she important?”
“Where is she, Heather?” Came the cold demand. He wasn’t interested in games. He wanted nothing more than to just get Bailey out of here and someplace he can collect his control again.
“She saw the photo spread in the paper Friday morning,” she took a guess and by the look on his face, she was correct. He didn’t have a clue he had even been in the papers. “Now, being the friends that we are…I know you don’t play with more than one woman in your bed at a time. I know you’re the loyal type. Your little red bird is hurt. And defiant.”
“You know who the woman is?” He asked flatly.
“Belinda’s little sister,” Heather said softly. “What did she want?”
“Revenge. Money.” He stared around the club, his hands shoved into the pockets of his long leather coat. “With those two it’s always a convoluted story to get to the truth of what they’re really after.”
“She hated you for putting her into rehab.”
“It’s what Belinda wanted,” he answered tonelessly. “We parted on decent terms. No matter what anyone believes.”
“I know that. I was there, remember?”
“Stephanie doesn’t believe it and she claims she’s here to see why I haven’t called her sister. Hell, I haven’t spoken to or wanted to speak to her since the divorce! What the hell would I want to have anything to do with her now?” Gabriel said flatly, dark eyes narrowing. “Where the hell is she, Heather?”
“Someplace safe.” Heather was probably one of the few that didn’t cower from the glaring and growling, her arm linking with his. “I did, however, ask if she were a switch hitter,” she sighed in dramatic dismay. “But she only has eyes for you.”
Gabriel closed his eyes for a long minute. “Where, Heather?”
“The normal bar,” she said with a laugh, guiding him along the designated path to the connecting corridor. “Why did you send her here?”
“I didn’t. Someone is playing some sick game,” he pushed the words between his lips. “Have your staff keep an eye out for a redhead in a black dress. The last one that looked like Bailey was murdered outside my club.”
Heather stopped and gripped his forearm tightly, nails biting through his coat.
“She didn’t wear black, Gabriel. She wore red.”
“She...” Something in him suddenly broke with relief.
“She was angry and defiant.” They entered the back of the bar, the focus of her generally attentive staff making her scowl. Then she followed not only their gaze, but the gaze of practically every male patron in the bar. And a few standing outside peering through the windows. “Oh, hell,” she laughed brightly and looked up.
The bartender suddenly appeared very busy and quite distracted.
Chapter Fifteen
“What the fuck?” Gabriel followed their gaze to the high, arched ceiling and the long length of pure white silk that looped from above. It looked to be about three feet wide and outlined in the center and spinning very slowly, was Bailey O’Conner.
Long, shimmering legs stretched out straight from one side, red heels on the feet clasped at the ankles. Slender arms were flung wide on the other side of the silk that hugged her like a skin, red head back and her eyes closed.
Gabriel felt his cock harden as his eyes followed the outline of her body in the silk, the behind he’d pressed against in his office too fresh in his memory. The soft, delightfully curved picture she presented made him growl softly and possessively.
“Lower that damn thing,” he said without looking at anyone. He took a step closer as the silk ribbon was slowly lowered. His hands caught her legs when she was close enough.
“Hey! I don’t want down yet!” Bailey opened her eyes and knew it was too soon since her head was still spinning slowly in circles. It had been like flying. Softly riding the air currents like she’d seen the gulls do all the time.
“The hell you don’t,” Gabriel watched her body freeze, her head turned slowly until their eyes met with only the ribbon between them.
“Oh, shit.”
“Delicately put, pet.” He moved closer until his hands were on her waist. “Sit up slowly and hold onto my arms. You might be a little dizzy.”
Bailey wanted to tell him to go fly a kite. She wanted to tell him she was not interested in him, but her hands immediately slipped inside the silk and went to the leather covered arms, holding on and letting him lift her to the floor.
Damn him for being right. Her body swayed and her legs wobbled, her eyes closing until things seemed to settle a little better.
“Bailey?”
He’d wrapped one arm completely around her middle, his other palm up and taking a firm hold of her chin. He watched one eye open very slowly.
She blinked and swallowed hard with a little nod. At least he sounded a little concerned, she admitted grudgingly.
“You can let me go. I’m okay.” She didn’t like the fact that she was straddling his thigh. She did not like that her skirt was short enough that her panties rested against his muscled thigh and he knew she was already damp. She put both palms against his shoulder
s but nothing moved.
“What the hell were you doing up there?” Gabriel pushed the words through clenched teeth. This wasn’t his place. This wasn’t even a bar where they’d understand when he tossed her over a bar stool and paddled her until he felt better. His arm tightened when she squirmed.
“Flying,” she answered instantly, trying to lower her face and finally giving up. “It was like being in gymnastics again,” she continued when he kept glaring at her. “Or like the gulls over the ocean.”
He knew it was the winsome little smile she gave him that shattered his common sense. He didn’t have relationships for a reason, he repeated to himself for the hundredth time since meeting her. He was always busy. Some part of him constantly found other things more entertaining than the woman he was with.
Until he met her.
His palm slowly loosened, vaguely aware of the attention they had drawn. He stepped back and took her wrist. He’d turned to lead her through the corridor when a deep voice broke into his thoughts.
“Hey. The little lady didn’t want to go,” a man about forty stepped forward, his hand out and on Bailey’s other wrist. “Let her stay. We liked the show she was putting on…great legs, honey.”
“Thank you very much,” Bailey said with a beaming smile.
“Tough. It’s over,” Gabriel looked down at the beefy hand. “Let her go or risk losing the hand. She’s mine.”
“Fuck that,” he gave a tug, ignoring the little yelp from the wishbone in the center of the two large men. “Tell him you want to stay.”
Bailey shook her head, tried pulling her hand free and winced.
“Let me go, please. I’m going now,” she said quietly, soothingly.
“You heard her,” Gabriel had turned back to face the man who abruptly realized how menacing the younger man looked.
Bailey: Independence #1 Page 11
