Keeping His Siren Part 1

by Kiersten Fay

  Before the guys could jibe her, she took a hard pull from her beer. A couple sips would cool her nerves.

  “Cheers,” Surfer called and followed her lead. “Now kick his ass, girly.”

  She planned to do just that.

  “Whose side are you on?” The bartender snapped.

  “Hers,” replied Surfer Boy with a duh hanging at the end of his tone. The other men shrugged and nodded their agreement.

  “Bunch of turncoats.”

  She grinned at that. Maybe these guys weren’t so bad after all.

  A moment of assessing the table, and she had her game plan set. This would be a clean sweep. Her next two shots went in without a hitch: the two and the three.

  The bartender decided now was the time to question her. “So you were pretty adamant earlier that Cortez would want to hire you. Well, what is it you do?”

  Straightening, she leaned on her cue stick. “I’m a singer.”

  He waited as if there should be more.

  “And I have waitress experience. But singing is really what I love.”

  He glanced out into the main room where those talented women were flying around the stage in a wide circle while twining their fabrics together.

  Naia swallowed, feeling suddenly inadequate. “It might not be as exciting as Cirque du Soleil over there, but I’m good.” Better than good. While she pulled strength from a crowd, she could feed it right back to them, energizing them as well, lighting them up with excitement and passion. It was a marvel to see, according to Cole.

  “Hm,” was all the bartender said.

  Did he think she was just talking herself up? Well, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting face time with Cortez. Dante had assured her once Cortez met with her, he would want to hire her. How Dante was so sure, she didn’t know, but she had to assume he knew what he was talking about. Why else choose her for this covert mission?

  All serious now, she lined up her next shot.

  From behind her, the bartender asked, “When did you learn to play?”

  The girl who used to hustle spoke, “Oh, I only learned recently. Pretty sure I’m still riding beginner’s luck.”

  He snorted. She glanced back at him. Nearly gasped. His eyes were fixed on her backside. While hustling a group of men, she’d often purposely bend a little too far for effect. Redirecting a little blood away from the brain tended to handicap men. But this time hadn’t been intentional, and flames entered her cheeks. It didn’t help that she’d never played pool in such a short dress.

  She quickly shook it off. Look all you like. It could only help her win. “You don’t believe me?”

  “I’d sooner believe the sky was purple.”

  “I’ve seen that happen you know. Usually at sunset.” She re-focused on the table and made her shot. The six ball bounced off the ten and then slowed, hovering just on the edge of the pocket she’d been aiming for. A breath later, it fell in like a co-ed who’d had one tequila shot too many.

  Dang that was close. Head in the game, Naia. Her next shot was on the mark. She wanted to gloat, but the bartender just stood there, raking his gaze over her body as if he didn’t care he was getting smoked. His lids were heavy and his gaze was on her in a way that made her feel stripped. It was unnerving. It was intriguing. She tried to ignore it, figuring he was just attempting to throw her off her game, but every time she glanced his way, his penetrating eyes were lapping her up.

  Men had looked at her in a similar fashion, but not quite like this. While other men’s eyes might be filled with lust, his burned with something more.

  Usually she could shrug off such intense attention, but her body seemed to be responding on a primal level. Her skin became over sensitized, prickling as though being caressed wherever his gaze landed. Thankfully the somewhat thick fabric of her dress hid her puckered nipples. She couldn’t help imagine what he might do were she alone with him...

  Thoughts like that were dangerous. Draw too much interest from a vampire and you’re likely to wind up down a few pints with a ghastly neck wound. Not exactly her idea of a good time, even if he was hot as hell with a voice that stoked a slow furnace within her.

  Goldie had admitted to dating a few vampires. Once, with a dreamy look, she’d admitted to Naia the experience was like nothing she could explain, following up with a shiver and a sigh.

  And why had that thought popped into her head?

  “Tell me how long you’ve really been playing,” he said, interrupting her mind’s descent into the gutter.

  “Very well,” she said. “The truth is I’ve been playing my whole life.” Until recently. Lately all she had time for was work.

  “Clearly. You haven’t missed a shot yet.”

  “Getting worried, Sir?” She made her tone mocking.

  His friends chuckled.

  “Not at all, Naia.” Her name on his tongue shouldn’t sound so good. “In fact, I’m thoroughly enjoying my beating.” He pointedly scanned her body again. Again warmth bloomed in her, and again she regretted her dress choice. She should have donned something more professional rather than following the bartender’s dictate. She still wasn’t sure if he was messing with her for his own amusement. But another glance at his expression said he might actually be into her.

  It was disconcerting what a simple look was doing to her. Was this merely a chemical attraction or was he working some of his vampire mojo on her? Rumor had it they could hypnotize anyone into doing anything they wanted. She shuddered.

  It wouldn’t be a major leap to think a certain type of vampire might abuse that kind of power.

  She suddenly worried she was in way over her head with this lot.

  With that in mind, she checked the clock on the wall. More than thirty minutes had passed since she’d arrived. “When might I be able to meet with Cortez?”

  The three men in the corner all seemed to get very thirsty in that moment, and they found the surrounding walls quite interesting. By their reactions, she was willing to bet Cortez wasn’t even coming.

  “Getting tired of my company already, luv?” the bartender said. “Got another interview after this? Or perhaps a date is waiting on you? I know I said to dress sexy,”—he gestured to her outfit—“but this is ridiculous.”

  “Is something wrong with my outfit?” Damn it, she told Goldie it was overkill, but the second her friend had heard date, she’d been gung ho.

  He blinked at her. “Wrong?” He stepped into her personal space, his face coming inches from her ear so that only she could hear. “You look out-of-this-world mouthwateringly delicious.” Before she realized what he intended, he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles.

  She sucked in a breath, her heart speeding up. She knew he could hear it.

  Yanking her hand away, she cursed the flush creeping into her cheeks. “You’re just trying to make me miss my last shot.” She only needed to sink the eight ball to win.

  “Perhaps.” He shrugged, his lips twisting into a crooked grin. “It’s only fair since it took you a mere second to floor me with this stunning dress.”

  Needing a moment, and some distance, she turned to take another swig from her beer. Head in the game.

  As if he knew his words were getting to her, continued. “I thought you were beautiful before, but I was wrong. You’re positively gorgeous.” She glanced back at him. His gaze was eating her up. “And that blush you’re building up is making you even more so. Does your man not compliment you enough?”

  “I don’t have a man,” she blurted, instantly regretting her words.

  The other three men sat silently, their eyes volleying between her and the bartender. Curiosity lit their expressions. They almost appeared surprised by this interaction.

  The bartender cocked a brow. “No man? But you must have many admirers.”

  “Sure,” she said flippantly. If you count salivating pervs as admirers. If she had a dollar every time a guy tried to pinch her ass while she delivered their drinks, s
he’d be able to afford a better apartment.

  “I assume you have a date later, though?”

  “That’s really none of your business.”

  “I wouldn’t want your meeting with the boss to intrude on your busy social life.”

  “Is this a fishing expedition or an interview? If you must know, I do have a date.” With a bed. She was beat. Today seemed to have gone on for ages. “But it can wait till after my meeting with Cortez, though I’m starting to doubt there even is a meeting. Admit it, Cortez isn’t even here, is he?”

  “Oh, he’s here,” Surfer Boy gave a hearty laugh. “And he’s getting his ass handed to him.”

  One of his buddies punted him in the chest.

  Naia got a sinking feeling then. She faced the bartender suspiciously. His expression was shuddered.

  At that same moment, the pigtailed waitress entered. “Hey Cortez, do you need anything else before I clock out for the night?”

  Naia’s lips parted on a breath. No. Her eyes snapped to his...to Cortez.

  To the waitress, he said, “We’re fine, Cindy. Have a good night.”

  Cindy nodded and then scurried out of sight. It took Naia what seemed like an eternity to regain her composure. “You’re Cortez?”

  At length he nodded, then winked.

  If she didn’t need this job, she might have slapped him

  Chapter 5

  Before, she’d been turned on by his flirtatious banter. Now she just felt foolish. He’d been playing games with her. Making jokes and secretly laughing at her with his buddies.

  Humiliation burned in her gut. Dante had been wrong. So wrong. Setting her stick on the table, she spun on her heel to leave.

  He blocked her path. “Leave now and forfeit the game.” She had yet to sink the eight ball, but winning no longer mattered.

  She sidled around him. “I don’t appreciate being made a fool of.”

  He halted her with a hand on her elbow. “That wasn’t my intention.”

  She pulled out of his grip and kept walking.

  He was right behind her. “I merely wanted to see how you would act around me, not knowing who I was.”

  She stopped. “Why?”

  “You provide a rare experience for me.”

  Because she was the only dummy in this town who wouldn’t know him on sight? Come on. Sure he was a big deal, but it wasn’t like his face was plastered all over the place. “Your friends sure did get a good laugh at my expense.”

  He shook his head. “They were more amused by my behavior.”

  “Because you tricked me.” In her haste, she knocked into a guy, spilling a bit of his drink. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she called, but kept going.

  Cortez kept pace. “Because I’m not often so taken by a female.”

  That made her stop. Taken? Could he really find her attractive? She studied his expression for falsities, but found none. Though, clearly he was a good liar.

  “Stay and have a drink with me.”

  She had intended to land an interview. Well, here he was. She fretted her bottom lip. His gaze followed the movement, and something intense flashed behind his eyes. The ice in her veins flashed red-hot. How did he do that?

  He grinned as though he sensed her reaction to him. Drinks with a hotter-than-sin wealthy club owner who possibly found her attractive? Or a chilly walk home at two in the morning? Cole hated when she went out alone this late at night. This town was filled with predators, not only the vampiric kind.

  Still, she felt out of her league here. Super spy she was not. Face to face, she hadn’t even sighted her mark. How could she gather intel on supposed illegal activity without getting caught? She glanced at the exit. She could leave now and end this charade. Tell Dante he’d picked the wrong girl for this task.

  But that seven grand? Cole was depending on her. If anything happened to him, she didn’t know what she would do.

  “Perhaps a wager would encourage you to stay,” he hedged.

  Why would he want her to stay? Hadn’t she endured enough embarrassment? Now she understood the strange looks his buddies had given her when she’d first shown up. They must think she was an idiot for not knowing who this man was. Not to mention....

  Did he say wager?

  “What kind of wager?”

  “First have a drink with me.” He gestured to an empty table at the edge of the room. “Come sit and talk with me.”

  She eyed him hesitantly.

  “You wanted a meeting with me, didn’t you?” He spread his arms out invitingly. “Are you hungry? I’ll have our chef make something special.”

  Still mentally debating, she allowed him to direct her to the table. He even pulled her chair out for her before taking the seat directly opposite her.

  Feeling eyes on her, she scanned her surroundings. Peppered through the crowd, several employees gazed at her with open curiosity. On the other side of the room, a waitress was paused in the middle of filling a water glass. Not paying attention to her task, the water began to spill over. The two men sitting at the table let out a sound to alert her to her blunder. The waitress jumped and hastily sopped up the mess with napkins.

  Finished with their routine, the entertainers on stage were taking their bows. Naia caught one of them elbowing the others to direct their attention toward Naia and Cortez.

  His buddies from the pool room were peeking around the wide arched threshold.

  What in the world was going on?

  Cortez called a waitress over and requested a menu. Apparently Ever Nights boasted a full three course menu. Dante’s only offered basic tavern grub, and she would warn anyone away from the chicken wings. Blech.

  As she scanned the menu, her tummy growled. The last thing she’d eaten was some pilfered chips from Dante’s kitchen. “You’re paying?” she asked Cortez.

  He responded with a single nod.

  Naia glanced up at the waitress. “Then I’ll have the lobster, darling.”

  The waitress reclaimed the menu and hurried off without a word.

  “You have expensive taste,” Cortez observed, but he didn’t sound put out.

  Oh, the irony. “Not really. I’ve never had lobster, but you deserved that and more for your little trick.”

  “Maybe I do.” There was an ease to his smile that managed to settle her nerves somewhat.

  “Your employees are gawking.”

  “They are not used to me chasing after women.”

  She supposed women just naturally fell at his feet. If she was smart, she’d be doing the same. “So what would you like to know. I can give you my work history.”

  “Is Naia your real name or a stage name?”

  “Real. On stage, I go by Sapphire.”

  “Are you a dancer as well?”

  “Uh, if you mean with clothes on, then yes. Otherwise no.”

  “So yours is a clean show.”

  She lifted one shoulder. “I’d say my dancing is provocative, but not X-rated.”

  “If you’re not a dancer why not just go by your regular name. It’s beautiful enough. And it suits you better, I think.”

  “Thanks. The girls told me a stage name would give me an added level of anonymity.” They’d emphasized that stalking is a problem in their line of business.

  “Girls?”

  She nearly bit her tongue. “Yeah, some friends of mine who work over at, uh, one of the other clubs.”

  “Oh? Which club?”

  Damn. She decided to stick to the truth as much as possible during his inquiry. “Dante’s Pit.” There was nothing wrong with knowing people who worked there, she told herself.

  “Couldn’t your friends have gotten you a job there?”

  Double damn. She had to tread carefully here. It would be easy to ferret out a lie. He knew her stage name. Her real name. All he’d need was to do a little research to find out her previous, or rather, continued employment. “I’ve worked there,” she admitted. “Waitressing and singing.”

  He assesse
d her for a moment. “Do you still work there?”

  Triple damn! She resisted a guilty squirm that wanted to snake through her body. “Kind of. But I don’t want to.” That at least was one hundred percent true. “Unless I want to start a career in stripping, I’m not making enough to cover my bills.” Debts, she mentally amended.

  “So you think you’ll make more if you work here?”

  “I know you pay even your lowliest employees better than anyone around.”

  Her lobster arrived then. Big, red, alien looking thing. Though they were only miles from the coast, and seafood was a staple in this area, she’d never had the opportunity to dine on lobster. Too pricey. Curiosity had her digging in.

  With an elbow on the table and his chin perched on his palm, Cortez watched as she took the first bite. She chewed, and chewed. The texture was not what she expected. Almost rubbery, but not quite, and not in a bad way. The flavor was somewhat sweeter than she’d anticipated, salty and buttery and distinctly its own, but nothing marvelous. Why did people rave about this?

  When she finally swallowed, she muttered, “Huh.”

  “Not what you expected?” he asked, mirroring her thoughts.

  “The girls at the club prattle on and on whenever a date buys them lobster. I thought it would be like crack.”

  Almost as if he couldn’t help himself, he barked out a laugh. “It could be more of a status thing for them.”

  “How silly.”

  “Silly? How so?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I never understood all that status stuff. If it’s not the best, why pretend it is just because it costs more?”

  “Perceived value, I suppose.”

  “See, that’s a silly notion. You could mark two identical items different prices, and people would automatically assume the higher priced item is better.”

  “True. But how else should they determine value? Price is often equated to quality. In markets where people are not completely sure of how to assess quality, price is often used as a qualifier. And it’s human nature to want what others covet. It’s why since as far back as history allows, women have covered themselves in shiny rocks and metals to attract the best mate, because they believe the rocks add to their beauty and therefore their perceived value. Same goes for some men and luxury sports cars. Isn’t that why you ordered the lobster in the first place?”