Legal Heat

by Sarah Castille

  Dedication

  To John, who believes in dreams.

  Chapter One

  “Are you lost, sugar?”

  Katy Sinclair gasped and spun around. There was nothing alarming in the appearance of the man behind her. He was dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt, carrying nothing more threatening than a duffel bag. But there was only one reason for anyone to be in the dead-end alley on the disreputable side of Vancouver’s historic Gastown. Now that she had been spotted, she lost her nerve.

  “Yes, I must have taken a wrong turn.” She crushed the brochure she held in her hand, but the sound echoed in the small space, drawing his attention. His gaze locked on the name still visible at the top of the crush of paper.

  “You have the right place. Carpe Noctem is through the red door behind you.” He smiled, a flash of white in a lean, tanned face.

  How did he know about the club? Who was he? Suddenly she wanted out of the dimly-lit alley. This was a mistake. Respectable young lawyers did not visit underground fetish clubs. Especially single moms. And a misunderstanding could tarnish her reputation.

  “I have to get going.” She looked past him toward the bright lights of Water Street.

  He didn’t move from her path. “You’re afraid to go in.” It wasn’t a question, but a challenge.

  “I am not.”

  He raised an eyebrow and amusement flickered across his face, softening the strong, fierce features just visible under the orange glow of the street light. His sable hair, more black than brown, was short and neatly cut, and his eyes were deep brown, richly hued and totally unreadable.

  “Well, let’s go then.” His tall, muscular body quickly closed the distance between them, tight, hard abs rippling under his snug T-shirt. Only then did she notice the thin, white scar circling his neck, the only blemish in his otherwise flawless, tanned skin. She caught the scent of sandalwood and a hint of leather. Exotic and dangerous.

  Katy gazed at him in fascination until she realized her moment of appraisal had given him control of the situation. A mistake she would never make in court.

  He pulled open the door and reached out his hand. “Come with me.”

  Music and laughter drifted into the alley, followed by the scents of dry ice and stale beer. Katy looked again toward the street. If she didn’t go in she could kiss her partnership dreams goodbye. And what was waiting for her at home? Steven, her ex, had the kids for the weekend. Her friends were busy with their own families, and she hadn’t had time since the divorce to even go on a date. Not that she was here to meet anyone. Business, not pleasure, awaited her through the red door.

  She hesitated only a moment longer, then took the man’s hand, drawn by his self-assurance and authority. With a firm but gentle touch, he let her know there would be no changing her mind.

  Her heart pounded as she followed him down the long, steep staircase. Carpe Noctem wasn’t the social venue of choice for Vancouver’s young professionals, but she had always been curious about what went on at the infamous and very exclusive sex club.

  She stepped out into a brightly lit foyer decorated with black and white tiles, a red leather couch and potted palms. Disappointingly normal.

  “Welcome to Carpe Noctem. I’m Trixie.”

  Katy’s eyes widened as she stared at the woman in front of her. Definitely not normal, at least in her world.

  Generous, creamy breasts strained against the top of the tight corset dress encasing the woman’s voluptuous body, threatening to spill over the line of public decency. Golden tassels fringed the top and bottom of the dress, swinging from side to side as she walked over to greet them on shiny, gold stilettos. The cuffs buckled to her wrists matched the red leather of the couch, making her as much a part of the decor as the glossy black and white burlesque photos dotting the walls.

  Good manners told her not to stare, but she couldn’t help letting her gaze travel upward to the multiple facial piercings, spiked platinum hair and sparkling, warm, green eyes.

  Katy looked down at her own clothes—black wool pencil skirt, white button-up blouse, black suit jacket and sensible black pumps. Definitely overdressed. But even if she had known where to buy a corset, she would never have worn one. She already felt daring with the top two buttons of her shirt undone.

  “You’ll be fine, sugar.” The deep wine-rich voice reassured her, just as she lost her nerve.

  She had almost forgotten about her mystery man, but when he let her hand go, a sense of loss washed over her.

  “It’s Katy, not Sugar.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll see you inside…Katy. Come to the bar and I’ll buy you a drink.”

  After giving the corset-clad woman a wink, he disappeared through another red door, his ass so perfectly tight in his snug, low-cut jeans, her mouth watered.

  “Can I help you?” Trixie’s eyes made a slow sweep of Katy’s outfit and then fixed on the briefcase Katy clutched in her hand.

  “I’m here to interview one of your waitresses, Valerie Wood. I called earlier.”

  Trixie beckoned Katy forward and pushed open the second red door. “She’s inside. I’d better escort you. The way you’re dressed, you might need some back-up.”

  Anticipation ratcheted through Katy as she followed the clatter of Trixie’s four-inch heels down a long, brightly-lit corridor. Her mind conjured up images of dimly-lit rooms filled with leather-clad Goths and silk-suited drug dealers whipping naked women bound in chains. She pulled her briefcase against her chest and tightened her grip as they rounded the corner and emerged into…a huge, airy, open lounge.

  Red dominated the room. From the curtains hiding private alcoves hugging the curve of the wall, to the cushions on the contemporary, tan leather couches and the plush carpet on the floor. At the back of the club, a huge, leather-clad bouncer guarded a set of ornately carved wooden doors marked Private.

  “For some reason I thought everything would be black, dark and ominous,” she murmured, slightly disappointed at the upscale, modern décor.

  Trixie laughed. “Not at this club. The owners, Tony and Mark, have expensive taste and an eclectic sense of style.”

  Katy stiffened as the crowd closed in around them. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to follow Trixie across the room. Just a bar, like any other. Rock music competed with the sounds of laughter and the clink of glassware. Heavy perfume won the olfactory battle against the scents of…leather and latex?

  Well, maybe not quite the same.

  “If your eyes get any bigger, you’ll have men swarming all over you,” Trixie said. “They love the wide-eyed innocent look here.” She patted Katy’s arm. “Try to relax. We might dress differently at the club, but we’re all pretty normal.”

  Differently? Give the girl an award for understatement of the year. Fetish wear surrounded her. Everything from pink PVC to black leather straps, from rubber to chains. Katy swallowed hard as she looked over the sea of beautiful, scantily-clad club members. None of the women appeared to be over twenty-five. Had she looked that young five years ago?

  “There’s Valerie.” Trixie pointed to a curvy, leather-clad woman stalking toward them.

  Katy followed Trixie’s gesture. Although partially hidden by a swinging black bob, Valerie’s face commanded attention. Perfectly heart-shaped with smooth, unblemished skin and high cheekbones. She looked like a very sexy porcelain doll.

  The doll stopped in front of her and stared.

  Big blue eyes looked her up and down. Perfect cherry red lips curled into a smirk.

  Katy twisted her skirt in her fist. Why hadn’t she asked Valerie to just come to her office? Was she that desperate for a little excitement in her life?

  “You Jimmy’s ambulance chaser?”

  The stench of Poison, Steven’s favori
te perfume, assailed Katy’s nose. She narrowed her eyes as she fought back a sneeze. “I prefer lawyer.”

  “Who do we have here?” The loud, booming voice drew Katy’s attention away from Valerie’s hostile glare.

  Tall and broad, the dark-haired man who stood before her wore a leather vest over his broad chest and tight, black leather trousers over thick, muscular legs. Very tight. She forced her eyes up.

  He peered at her under dark eyebrows and held out his hand. “I’m Tony. You don’t belong here.”

  No kidding, Sherlock. “I came to interview Valerie.” She shook his hand, wincing when he squeezed overly hard. Fortunately, she dealt with squeezers every day. She returned the pressure twofold, biting her lip to repress a smile when he grunted and pulled his hand away.

  Beside him, Valerie gave a very unlady-like snort. “Jimmy decided to lawyer up with little Miss Twiggy here. He wasn’t happy with the duty counsel and he didn’t want no legal aid lawyer neither. He had to get some over-priced, big city girl to handle his case.”

  Twiggy? Not with these thighs. Katy gritted her teeth. “Look, if you don’t want to keep Jimmy out of jail, let me know and I’ll be more than happy to leave. I’m really not interested in listening to any more professional pejoratives.”

  “What the hell did she just say?” Valerie snapped.

  Tony frowned. “I don’t think this is an appropriate place for your discussion.” He looked around and then pointed toward the far wall. “Valerie, why don’t you ask James to find you a spare room? He’s over there.”

  Katy followed his gaze to the man partially hidden in the shadow of a large pillar. With his sharply angled jaw, fierce scowl, close-cropped blond hair and ropey muscles, he exuded pure danger.

  Ice blue eyes caught her own.

  Katy shivered. She sensed something dark in him. Forbidden. Hungry. A man who would not accept disobedience. Or failure. Definitely not someone she would want to meet in a dark alley. So unlike the gorgeous guy she had met earlier. Now there was a man she would want to see again. Any place. Any time.

  Trixie leaned over to mouth in her ear. “James moonlights as head of security at the club when he’s between cases. He’s a homicide cop, and pretty damned intense. I’d keep my distance if I were you. I’ve never seen him smile. Not once.”

  Katy shuddered and glanced behind her at the door. “I really have no interest in staying after I talk to Valerie.”

  Tony raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? I think you might find the club…enlightening.” He reached for the black leather whip attached to his belt.

  “Whoa, cowboy.” Katy’s eyes widened and she took a step back. “I’m not into any of this…stuff…that goes on here. I’d better be on my way.”

  She pulled a card from her purse and handed it to Valerie. “If you want to help Jimmy, you can come to my office first thing on Monday morning.”

  Tony smiled and replaced the whip on his belt. “Such a shame. But, you’re welcome to stay if you change your mind.” His voice mellowed as if he hadn’t just threatened to whip her in the middle of the bar, and he gave her a wink. “I don’t think you’ll have trouble making friends. You’ve already caught Mark’s attention.”

  Katy glanced around for the mysterious Mark but she couldn’t see through the crowd.

  “Don’t mind him.” Trixie patted Katy’s arm after Tony left them to join a group of tall, willowy, PVC-clad blondes in the corner. “He’s just a big tease.”

  “The whip sort of spoiled the joke for me.” Katy sighed. Her exciting evening had just gone down the tubes. She had a few hours of work, a bad sitcom and a bubble bath waiting for her at home.

  She moved toward the door only to pull up short when Valerie stepped in front of her. “Wait, please. I do want to help Jimmy.”

  Katy barely managed to suppress a frown. The bubble bath held more appeal than spending an hour with Jimmy’s surly girlfriend. But she had a job to do and a client depending on her.

  An hour later, Katy emailed Valerie’s draft witness statement to her office and packed up her laptop. Valerie promised to stop by her office to sign the statement before Jimmy’s court date and waved goodbye.

  Katy took one last look around the club and headed toward the door. Once upon a time before Steven, she would have jumped at the chance to explore a club like this. Dangerous. Decadent. But a long, unfulfilling marriage had sucked her curiosity and her sense of adventure away.

  Trixie caught up to her before she made it to the safety of the hallway.

  “Why don’t you stay for a drink? It’s Friday night, and you look like you need to unwind.”

  Katy hesitated. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had been in a bar for purely social reasons. Work and life as a single mom kept her too busy to waste time on leisure activities. But a fetish club…?

  “This place isn’t really me,” she said. “Plus, I’m a bit overdressed…and I don’t know anyone…unless…maybe…you could have a drink with me?”

  Trixie shook her head. “I’m on duty at reception tonight.”

  “I’m sorry.” Katy rushed her words. “You’re working. I totally forgot.”

  “But…” Trixie gave her a wink, “…I could get someone to cover for me if we had a new member who needed me to introduce her around.”

  Katy took another look around the club, taking in the sea of fetish wear, whips, chains and assorted torture devices. “Actually, maybe not.”

  Trixie gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Not everyone here has a kink. Some people just like to hang out at the club or are friends of members. We have a private area in the back for people who are into serious play. So, how about it? Should I go get the application form and ask someone to cover my shift while you find us a table?”

  Trixie’s warm smile and the temptation to do something for herself—something outside her narrow world of contracts, kids and conservatives—were impossible to resist. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

  Katy found a quiet table in the corner and Trixie joined her a few minutes later with a handful of papers and two glasses of white wine. Katy filled in the forms and they chatted about Trixie’s work at the club until they were joined by a few curious members and then a few more. Their table soon became a revolving door for Trixie’s friends and acquaintances, all eager to welcome a new face to the club.

  Several glasses of wine later, Katy slipped off her jacket and pulled the ponytail holder out of her hair. She hadn’t enjoyed herself as much in years. Good company. Great music. Interesting people. Awful wine. But it was her turn to buy the next round.

  Katy looked over at the huge bar curving out from one corner of the wall. With its black granite counters, tan leather bar stools and huge, mirrored bottle display, it would not have been out of place in a fancy hotel.

  And behind the counter, cleaning glasses, stood her mystery man.

  He winked, a casual gesture, but beneath his hooded lids, she caught a glimpse of power. Her cheeks bloomed. He had to be well over six feet of sexy, mouth-watering muscle.

  “What’s the story with the hot bartender?” Katy caught another glimpse of him from beneath her lashes. The bartender gave her a curious smile, partly amused, partly intrigued, definitely interested. Katy lowered her eyes and her cheeks flamed.

  “Trixie!” The deep, booming voice drew her attention away from the bar.

  “Uh oh.” Trixie grimaced as Tony bore down on them, his face taut with anger, his whip slapping against his thigh.

  “I need you at reception. Now. Rick had to deal with a security issue and there’s no one at the front desk. I don’t know why you asked him, of all people, to cover for you.”

  Trixie gave him a contrite smile. “Sorry. I was trying to be sociable. Keep the clients happy and all that.”

  “Go.” He pointed toward the door. “You’ll be getting a formal warning notice at the end of your shift, if you’re lucky. Fired, if you’re not.”

  Katy swallowed. “It’s my fault.
I asked Trixie to stay and keep me company.”

  “This has nothing to do with you,” Tony snapped. “We’re busy tonight and Trixie knows shift changes have to be pre-approved.”

  “Sorry, Katy.” Trixie pushed herself away from the table. “Next time I’ll make sure I have all the necessary forms and approvals before we have a drink. Is that okay with you, sir?”

  Tony’s nostrils flared. “Don’t take that tone with me, Trixie. You know how I deal with disrespectful behavior.”

  “Which is why I’m using that tone.” She muttered so quietly only Katy could hear. “Seriously. What does a girl have to do to get a little discipline around here?”

  Katy pushed herself out of her chair and stood toe to toe with Tony, her hands clenched by her sides. “You can’t reprimand her for something that isn’t her fault. I was going to leave. She encouraged me to stay. You benefited because I spent money in the club.”

  Tony’s face tightened. “I told you not to interfere.”

  “It wasn’t her fault.” Resolve gave her the courage to face him down. “I won’t let her take the blame for something I instigated.”

  Red flushed Tony’s cheeks and he narrowed his eyes. Pulling himself up to his full leather-clad height, he leaned over Katy. “Last chance to make a graceful escape.”

  Katy trembled but damned if she was going to back down. “Not without your assurance she won’t suffer the consequences of my actions.”

  Tony grabbed her wrist and his voice dropped to a low growl. “Time for you to go, sweetheart.”

  “I don’t think so.” A deep voice intruded on the conversation, washing over her like smooth bourbon.

  Katy caught the familiar, heady scent of sandalwood. She turned to look over her shoulder.

  Oh, God.

  Her mystery man stood only a foot behind her. Devastatingly handsome, sinfully erotic and very, very amused.

  Katy flamed. She had been wrong about him. He wasn’t just hot. He was sex personified.

  “I’ll deal with her, Tony,” he said, his voice calm and even. “She’s right about Trixie. I overheard their conversation. Katy is the troublemaker here.”