“We have an agreement,” Louis said cynically. “You should have offered him a bribe, instead of threatening him. It works much better with some people. Send your man away. You’ll get nothing from me with either threats or bribes until we talk.” He met Brody’s gaze steadily. “Sacha doesn’t know you’re here. When I got your call from the desk, I decided it would be better to come down and discuss this before you barged in and blew everything again.”
“I once asked Sacha if you were her pimp,” Brody said, being deliberately insulting. “She said you weren’t, but you’re acting remarkably like one at the moment.”
A swift flare of anger lit Louis’s dark eyes. “I’m no pimp.” He was obviously trying to control his temper. “But I know Sacha and I care what happens to her. I think you do, too, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” His smile was a tigerish baring of teeth. “Instead, I would be thinking of ways to mutilate your famous face.”
Levine took a protective step closer to Brody. “I could talk to the manager, Mr. Devlin. Enough pressure and—”
“No,” Brody cut him short, his gaze never leaving Louis’s face. “Go back to the car, Barry.”
Levine frowned. “I don’t think—”
Brody made an impatient gesture. “If I need you, I’ll send for you.”
Levine hesitated, then turned on his heel and strode through the lobby toward the front entrance.
“Well?” Brody asked.
Louis gestured to a small room opening off the lobby. “No one should be in the bar this early in the day, not even the bartender. Pity. I’d let you buy me a drink. I could use one.” He moved gracefully into the dimness of the deserted bar and sat down at a white plastic table to the right of the door. “I’m not accustomed to interfering in Sacha’s life. She’s the only friend I have, and I don’t take risks with that friendship.”
Brody sat down opposite him. “Talk.”
“Americans are so direct.” Louis leaned back in his chair and gazed at Brody with a faint smile. “You’re angry with me. Why is that? It is you who made Sacha run away. You should have taken what she offered. It was stupid of you to think she would let you help her without giving something in return.”
“You’re saying I should have made Sacha my mistress?” Brody’s voice was threaded with fury. “What the hell kind of man are you?”
“One who wants to keep Sacha alive,” Louis said quietly. “I thought we were agreed about that. You took a bullet for her two nights ago.”
“That doesn’t mean I want her paying me by jumping into the sack with me.”
“You told her that you desired her and you’re a very rich man. It was the only coin she could be sure you actually wanted.”
“I didn’t tell her that to make her—” Brody broke off in helpless exasperation. “Dear Lord, what a mess.”
“Yes, and one that must be cleaned up if Sacha is to remain safe. It’s not entirely your fault. Sacha should have told you more about herself, and you would have understood what a mistake it would be for you to refuse her.” Benoit smiled sadly. “I think perhaps she is a little afraid to tell you about her past. She says she is not, but it’s natural that she would be uncertain. You must make her tell you.” He paused. “I cannot do it for her. I don’t have the right, but there’s one thing I can tell you. Sacha and I are not lovers.”
Brody became still. “I find that hard to believe. You sleep in the same bed.”
Louis’s expression was suddenly shuttered. “It was convenient at times.” He shrugged. “Our relationship is rather complicated. She will tell you.”
“Perhaps,” Brody said. “But I think I’d rather hear it from you.”
“Too bad.” Louis pushed back his chair and stood up. “I have told you enough. It is Sacha we must be concerned about now. You can not imagine what she has gone through in her life. It must be ended.” His voice grew more harsh. “So, dammit, forget your idiotic reservations and keep Sacha with you where she’ll be safe and we have a chance of capturing Gino. If she wants to go to bed with you, let her.” He started to turn toward the door and then stopped. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a large brass key, and tossed it on the table. “Sacha is in Room Two-oh-three. I’ll give you thirty minutes. I hope you’re both gone when I get back. Tell her I said it was time she told you everything.”
Brody’s hand closed on the key. “What if she refuses? I’m not going to leave her here even if I have to have Levine’s men tie her hand and foot and cart her out of the hotel.”
Louis frowned. “No, she must come to you willingly. Sacha has had much practice in hiding. If she leaves you again, you will not find her.”
Brody felt a chill touch him to the very bone. “She’s not going to run away again. I’ll find a way of keeping her with me.”
“Not unless you begin to understand what causes Sacha to be what she is.” Louis frowned thoughtfully. “There has to be a trigger to make her tell you.” Something flickered in his eyes as the answer came to him. “Have you ever noticed that whenever Sacha is frightened or nervous, she rubs behind her left ear?”
Brody nodded slowly, puzzled.
“Make her show you what’s behind her ear.” Louis turned and walked out of the bar.
• • •
Sacha was sitting on the bed when Brody swung open the door of the hotel room. She straightened with shock, her eyes wide in her pale face. “Brody, what are you doing here?”
“Where did you expect me to be?” He stepped into the room and shut the door. “Every time I turn around, you’re gone. Did you think I’d just let you run away? Your friend Louis tells me I’m an idiot, but I’ll—”
“Louis gave you his key,” Sacha interrupted. “He should not have done that. You don’t understand.”
“That’s what you told me last night.” Brody pocketed the key and walked toward her. “And you were right. I don’t understand a damn thing, but it’s not because I don’t want to. I’ve been wandering around in the dark from the moment I first met you, and I’m tired of being understanding and not asking questions. I want to know what the hell is going on.”
“I know I haven’t been fair, Brody, but I didn’t think …” She rubbed behind her ear. “I don’t know— What are you doing?”
Brody’s hands were carefully lifting the silken strands of her hair and pulling it back from her left ear. “Obeying instructions. Benoit told me to look behind your—” He inhaled sharply. “My God!” Four small white scars formed a crescent on the tender flesh just behind her ear. Each was perfectly round and of an identical size. “These are from burns!”
Sacha hurriedly stepped back and pushed his hands away. “Louis had no right to tell you to do this.”
“He refused to tell me anything else.” His gaze was fixed on her ear, now half veiled by the curving bell of her page boy. “He said you’d tell me the rest.” He swallowed hard. He felt sick. “What caused those burns, Sacha?”
She looked away from him. “What does it matter? They’re very old burns. It happened a long time ago.”
“It matters. What, Sacha?”
Her gaze returned to him and she smiled shakily. “You’re going to be difficult again, aren’t you?”
“Oh, yes,” he said huskily. “Damn difficult. How did you get those scars?”
She hesitated and then abruptly gave in. “Gino smokes a cigar.”
Shock and rage exploded within him. “That bastard burned you with a lighted cigar?”
She nodded. “I disobeyed him, and he decided he had to set an example.” She shivered. “Gino is a great one for examples. Every day that I came back without money, he tied me in a chair and had one of the other children hold my hair.” She moistened her lips with her tongue. “He did it very slowly and only one burn for each offense. Then he would untie me and give me a hug and a piece of candy. I can remember him laughing and telling me that all bad children must be punished, but he loved me anyway.”
“Children? How o
ld were you?”
“Seven.”
She heard his soft curse and her gaze went to his face. His expression held such menace, it shocked her. “It only happened that first week I came to Paris. I gave in after the fourth day and he never burned me again.”
“How magnanimous of him.” Brody’s voice held tones of silken savagery that were chilling, Sacha thought. “He only tortured you four times. And just what did you do to keep in his good graces?”
“I picked pockets,” she said simply. “We all did.”
“We?”
“There were usually anywhere from ten to fifteen of us at the trailer encampment at one time.” Her face clouded. “When one of us reached the age of thirteen, Gino couldn’t use him anymore as a pickpocket, so he sold him into prostitution.” She shuddered. “I know I couldn’t let that happen to me. I saw what they became. No freedom. No hope.”
“Who the hell is this Gino? How could he get away with this? It sounds like something out of Oliver Twist.”
“It was a little like that, I suppose. Sometimes it wasn’t a bad life. Children usually find a way of adjusting, and we were free to roam the streets and play as long as we brought home our quota of francs every day. I met Louis the first week I was there. He was a year older than I was and had been in Paris about six months. He tried to persuade Gino not to burn me.” She made a face. “He didn’t succeed, of course, and ended up with a split lip himself. The second night Gino made him hold back my hair when he burned me. I remember the tears were running down Louis’s cheeks.…”
Brody felt tears sting his own eyes. “How could it happen?” he asked again. “Where was your grandfather?”
“He was the one who sold me to Gino,” she said simply. “I told you he hated gajos. When my mother died and he found the letter, he went into a rage. He never wanted to see me again and he thought he might as well profit by it. There are gypsy ‘bosses’ like Gino in practically every major city in Europe who use bands of children to rob the tourists. The money we brought in wasn’t as little as you might think. I know Gino had investments in several housing developments in Madrid and Marseilles.” She shrugged. “High profits and low up-keep. He might have gone on for a long time if I hadn’t found enough evidence to get the gendarmes to prosecute. I was almost twelve by that time and Louis was thirteen.” Her voice was only a level above a whisper. “I was so frightened the night at the hospital when the X-ray technician came in and told the police sergeant that Louis was thirteen. I knew Gino would—”
“X rays? I don’t understand,” Brody said gently. “You’re getting ahead of yourself, Sacha.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll try to be more clear.” She paused, attempting to marshal her thoughts. “You see, according to French law, we were safe from prosecution as long as we were under thirteen. The police usually rounded us up and took us to the station at least once a month, but they always let us go. Occasionally they’d send us to the hospital to have our hands X-rayed.” She laughed shakily. “One of the miracles of modern medicine. Gino always made us lie to the police about our age but they could tell how old we were from the X rays. Anyway, the police were told that Louis was thirteen or older, and I knew Jacques would tell Gino. Jacques was Gino’s informant among us. He was given extra food, toys, and blankets in exchange for making sure Gino knew everything that was going on. I was praying the police sergeant would arrest Louis, but he let him off with a warning.” Her voice lowered to a level above a whisper. “And Gino was waiting outside the hospital in a van to pick us up. Louis disappeared the next night, like all the others when they reached thirteen.” She closed her eyes. “I was terrified, but I knew I had to do something. I couldn’t let them hurt Louis. I stole Gino’s account books and went to the police.”
“They caught him?” There was fierce satisfaction in Brody’s voice. “God, I hope they sent him straight to prison.”
Sacha shook her head. “He had the money to hire a good lawyer. Even though I was a material witness, he got only ten years. They couldn’t connect him with the prostitution. It was over a year before the police found Louis in a bordello in Venice.” Her lids opened to reveal eyes glittering with tears. “Poor Louis. He doesn’t talk about that time, but it … changed him. He won’t let anyone close to him now.”
“What happened after the trial?”
“The police found us a place in a charity home and sent us to school. We got on with our lives and trained for careers. Louis is quite wonderful at mathematics. He’ll be a financial wizard one day.”
“And you?”
“I was studying dress designing and doing a little photographic modeling on the side. I’m a pretty good designer, by the way.”
Brody had to swallow to ease the tightness of his throat. “I’m sure you are. When did Gino get out of prison?”
“A little over two months ago. We weren’t expecting it. We should have had another year before we had to worry about him.” Her lips twisted wearily. “I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. Gino always was clever. The police warned us that he was looking for us and gave Louis and me tickets and documents to get us to America.” She drew a deep breath and smiled with an effort. “There, now you know it all.”
He shook his head. “No, not all.” He smoothed back her hair and with infinite tenderness rubbed the scarred flesh behind her left ear. “There’s still one thing I don’t know. Why should anyone who has suffered as much as you have think she has to pay someone to keep her safe? Can’t you see that you deserve it? You’ve paid your dues. Let someone take care of you for a change.”
“You?” she whispered. “I can’t, Brody. Don’t you see? For five years I stole from people. I hated it, but I did it. I even made sure I was good enough so that I could steal more than my share. That way I could give it to any one of the other children who didn’t manage to meet the quota. Do you know how doing that made me feel? I can’t steal anything ever again, and taking without giving is stealing.”
“Sacha …” Brody trailed off helplessly. She meant it. No matter what arguments he used he would never be able to sway her from her deep conviction. “You’re making this impossible for me.”
“I never meant to do so. I only wanted to help, Brody.”
“I know.” Tenderness moved through him in an aching tide. “I know you well enough to realize that now, Sacha. You won’t change your mind?”
She shook her head without speaking.
“Then it looks like I’m going to have to change mine, doesn’t it?” He kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose. “So much for nobility. You win, Sacha.”
“What?”
“You’re coming home with me.”
“No, I told you—”
He placed two fingers on her lips to stop her. “You want to give? Okay. I’m taking.” His gaze flicked to the double bed and then back to her. “I hope you won’t insist on our consummating our deal here. I had another place in mind.”
She was staring at him, her eyes wide, scarcely breathing. “You mean it?”
“Oh, yes, I mean it.” Something heated flared in the depths of his eyes. “I’m going to take you to bed and let you give me anything you choose.” His lips curved in a reckless smile. “And maybe a few things I choose. I’m tired of fighting against my own nature.” He picked up her purse from the bed and handed it to her. “Shall we go?”
“It’s not a trick?” she whispered.
“You want proof?” He reached out and began to unbutton her white shirt. He unfastened the front catch of her bra and pushed it slowly aside to reveal her naked breasts. “Don’t wear a bra again. You don’t need one, and it will only get in the way”—he lowered his head with leisurely deliberateness—“when I want to do this.” His mouth opened and then closed over one taut nipple.
She cried out, arching forward as she felt his warm tongue teasing the hard tip. His hand cupped her other breast, his thumb and forefinger pulling rhythmically as he stroked her with his tongue. “Brody …”
But he wasn’t listening. His lips were suckling strongly now, biting gently and then soothing the teasing abrasion with his tongue. When he finally raised his head her nipples were pointed, distended, and as blazing as the color mantling her cheeks.
He stared at the swollen beauty of her breasts for a long time before his gaze lifted to her face. “Do you believe me now?”
She couldn’t speak, but managed to nod wordlessly.
“Good. Then we’d better get out of here, or I may change my mind. That lumpy bed is beginning to look very inviting.” He fastened her bra and quickly buttoned her blouse. “Did you have a jacket?”
She gestured vaguely. “On the chair.”
He crossed the room and returned with the blue-jean jacket. “I think you’d better put this on.” His gaze lingered on the tips of her breasts pressing hard against the fabric of her bra and straining against the cotton of the white shirt. “Not that I don’t enjoy seeing you like this.” He skimmed his fingertips teasingly over her breasts and chuckled as he saw the sudden thrusting response. “But I’d prefer no one else noticed.” He helped her on with the jacket. “Once we’re in the car, it won’t matter. We’ll roll up the glass, and Harris is far too discreet ever to look in the rearview mirror.”
“In the limousine? You’re going to …?”
His lids half veiled his eyes, and he smiled with a blatant sensuality that caused her heart to skip a beat and then begin to pound erratically. “Perhaps someday. It might be very erotic. Today we’ll just play a little to increase the anticipation while we’re driving to our little love nest.”
“Malibu?”
He shook his head as he turned her toward the door. “Not Malibu. I don’t think I could wait that long. I know a place that’s much closer to the hotel.”
“The theater?” Sacha asked blankly.
The limousine rolled to a stop in the alley at the backstage door. Harris hopped out of the driver’s seat and opened the passenger door.
“I thought it fitting,” Brody said quietly. “You didn’t like the house in Malibu, and you may learn a few things about me here.” He got out and held out his hand to help her from the car before turning to Harris. “When Levine and his men show up, tell them to wait here for us. We may be quite a while.”
The Spellbinder: A Loveswept Classic Romance Page 10