Cocky Prince

by Jules Barnard

  She releases a sigh and now looks really pissed. “Damn you. That was the sweetest thing you’ve ever said.” She eases in closer and stares up. “When you get home, you’re going to tell me everything that’s going on.”

  I thought Hayden would be safer not knowing about Bliss. That keeping her off Blackwell and Paul’s radar would protect her from the threats I’ve received. But I underestimated Hayden’s ability to get into trouble. It just might be more dangerous for her to poke around in the dark.

  “Agreed.” I kiss her again. “You need a ride? I have a little time before I need to be somewhere.”

  “No,” she says, reluctantly. “I brought my car. I had one drink; I’ll be fine. Go back to those horrible men you work with.”

  She starts to pull away and I grab her hand, bringing her back into my arms. “I will tell you everything.”

  She nods, and this time when she steps away I let her go. “Oh, I know you will,” she says over her shoulder. “Otherwise, you’ll pay for it. Painfully.” Her hips swish-swish in agitation, and I am helpless to look away. She’s in a tight pencil skirt and candy-red heels, and she is killing me.

  I’d like for all of this to be over so that I can go home with her, but I have a few more things to take care of. Looks like I’ll be returning to the group sooner than I thought, since Hayden doesn’t need a ride.

  I dial the number for security. “A beautiful pinup brunette in red heels will be exiting the back entrance. Make sure she gets to her car safely.”

  Blue or Hayden will be the death of me. My bet’s on Hayden.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  William stays back to check in with a few of the dancers from the club, and the rest of us head for Bliss and the grand opening party the casino is hosting. We enter the crowded suite, and several burlesque dancers are already mingling with the crowd. There are other women there too. Considering their beauty and sophisticated but sexy attire, my guess is these other women are the professional escorts. They don’t appear to be attached to any one man, and all of them are near guards I hired.

  I grab a glass of champagne and talk with the CEO of a popular hotel chain. He’s in his mid-fifties and wearing a wedding ring, but his gaze keeps drifting to a redheaded burlesque dancer.

  “So I told the son of my business associate,” the CEO says, “we don’t allow prostitutes in our hotels.” He glances at the redhead again and grins. “Not that there’s anything wrong with paying for beauty. But our hotels have a reputation to uphold, and—”

  The CEO says something else, but I stop paying attention. Because two additional bodyguards enter through the suite’s elevator, along with more escorts.

  I find it strange that they’re entering via the emergency exit. In fact, the more I study the people inside the suite, something seems off. The escorts are sitting on love seats or standing stiffly off to the side chatting with guests, but they appear reserved…almost nervous.

  I excuse myself from the CEO, and approach the escort nearest me. She’s dressed like the others, very classy and pretty in a low-cut red dress, and there’s a bodyguard a few feet away. I sit on the loveseat beside her, and her eyes dart around, her body tensing.

  I had nothing to do with hiring escorts for Bliss. Paul said he’d found the perfect solution and no longer needed my help. I didn’t find it odd at the time, particularly since I wanted no part of it. Now I’m wishing I paid more attention.

  “I’m Adam,” I say to the woman. “And you are?”

  “Victoria,” she says with a heavy Latin accent. South American, if I’m not mistaken.

  “Pleasure to meet you. Are you a guest, or…”

  “I work,” she says shyly.

  I nod, considering. “Have you been in Lake Tahoe long?”

  She glances at the bodyguard a few feet away, then back at me, but not looking me in the eye. “No.”

  I peer at the guard I vaguely remember hiring. He was one of about ten Blackwell requested. “Do you plan to stay?”

  She wrings her hands together. “Ye-yes.”

  That didn’t come out confident. And it didn’t sound like a person happy to be here either. “How old are you, Victoria?”

  She hesitates. “Eighteen.” This time she looks down.

  It’s difficult to tell, because she’s dressed as a mature, seductive woman, but she doesn’t come across as seductive, or secure, or eighteen.

  “Have you seen much of Lake Tahoe? Taken any tours?” I’m talking to keep her engaged, because something isn’t right here.

  She hesitates a moment, as though translating my question in her head. “No,” she says, and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, avoiding eye contact again.

  “You haven’t been to the lake?” Lake Tahoe is the reason people travel from all over the world to visit.

  “I not stay long,” she says in broken English, then looks hesitantly to her guard. “I here for work.”

  “I see.” But I really don’t. This conversation is getting stranger by the minute. “What part of town are you living in?”

  The guard steps forward. “All right, Victoria,” he says, cutting off the conversation. “Give the other ladies a chance to talk to the gentlemen.” He grabs her lightly by the elbow and guides her away, leading her to the elevator.

  What the fuck was that?

  I lean forward, elbows on my knees, and study each of the women inside the suite, including the new ones who arrived a few minutes ago. A couple of them look comfortable talking to the men in the room, and the burlesque dancers seem totally at ease, but the others appear just as uptight and nervous as Victoria. And they seem to be rotating in and out through the elevator instead of the front door.

  I spot Paul across the room. He’s talking to a guest—another retired athlete, by the look of him. I stand and walk over.

  “Pardon the interruption,” I say to the guest, and turn to Paul. “May I speak to you for a moment?”

  Paul flags a waiter and grabs another drink for his guest, then waves over one of the burlesque dancers. His guest seems happy to replace him with the beautiful woman, and Paul and I move into a corner.

  I lower my voice, my expression mild. “Where did you find the escorts?”

  Paul nods across the room at another person who just walked in. “Gorgeous, aren’t they? A little green, but that won’t take long to wear off.”

  I keep my anger in check, but after tonight, it’s a challenge. “You could say that. The one I spoke to appeared scared.”

  Paul’s satisfied smirk drops, and his gaze slides to me. “They’re trained to be friendly. Which one was it?”

  “Trained? Are we discussing pets, or women?”

  “Is there a difference?” At my look, Paul straightens the sleeve of his shirt beneath his jacket. “Don’t be uptight, Cade. They’re professional escorts. They’re paid to be pleasant and friendly.”

  I nod toward the back of the room. “Why are they entering through the emergency elevator and not the front door?”

  He chuckles. “You seem overly curious. Interested in one of them?”

  “Answer the question.”

  This time Paul frowns. “It’s more secure.”

  “How are beautiful women crossing the casino floor a security risk? I would think they’d be a draw for the casino.”

  He shrugs noncommittally. “We wouldn’t want to lose one of them.”

  Both of us stare at the crowd for a moment, my unease growing.

  I rub my jaw. “Let me ask you something. Were these women brought into the country to fill the escort positions?”

  Paul grins, his gaze flicking to mine. “You’re a sharp one, Cade. That’s why we brought you on board. And because you’ve been in the business your entire life, you know how things are run.”

  He turns toward me and his expression shifts from charming guest greeter to cold businessman. “Our stable of escorts are”—his head tilts and he glances up unseeing, as though thinking—“exotic, from all over t
he world. These women wanted to come to the States, and Blackwell’s connections made that possible. The ladies live a couple of blocks away—off-site, just how Blackwell wanted it. They’re provided for and protected twenty-four-seven.” He chuckles. “It’s a damn sorority house, filled with beautiful, sexy women—can you imagine? I have it in mind to make my way over there and inspect the pillow fighting.”

  I ignore his attempt at humor, my gut churning with his words.

  “Don’t worry,” Paul continues. “We have the best guards looking out for them, thanks to you and Blackwell. All we have to do is call up to the house, and an escort is sent whenever we want.”

  I nod slowly, as though this is fine, when it’s the opposite. “Are they paid for their time?”

  Paul checks his watch, and I can tell I’m about to lose him. “The guy who brought the women in supplies them with whatever they need, and they work for him. Net-net, they’re ours for two years. If we like some of them, we can keep them longer.” Paul’s eyes narrow at the expression on my face. I might be shooting him a death glare. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. It happens all the time. These women wanted to get away from whatever miserable life they had. Think of it as a charity.”

  “To be a sex slave?”

  Paul laughs outright. “Oh, come on. Let’s not go that far. You know how women are. They like things. And these women are given designer clothing, introduced to rich, influential men. I wouldn’t be surprised if we lost a few of them to powerful Bliss members who wanted exclusive access.”

  The heat of my anger burns the back of my neck. I look away before I hit Paul.

  “Look, Cade, I’ve already told you. The boss’s friends aren’t people you want to cross. Stop asking questions.” He waves around. “Just look at these women. They’re ripe and stunning. They’ve saved this venture a ton of money—money that will go back into our pockets at the end of the year. Remember that.”

  “As long as the bottom line doesn’t suffer.”

  “Exactly,” Paul says, missing my sarcasm. He raises his hand as if to slap me on the shoulder, and drops it at the black look I level at him.

  He glances over my shoulder. “The quarterback you brought in at the last minute just arrived. Why don’t you bring him back? Give him a tour. Introduce him to some of the ladies.”

  Gabe Aldridge spots me and moves toward the center of the room. He’s a middle-aged retired quarterback with a good reputation in the sports industry. “You’re right. He’d love to meet these women.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Paul walks off, and I take a deep breath, peering around the room. I don’t know how I missed it when I first arrived, but I’m seeing it now.

  My hands shake with unbanked anger. This is all wrong. It has been from the moment I agreed to play a role in Bliss. Hayden was right. She mistrusted Blackwell from the beginning. Challenged him. I thought he was like my father—power hungry and disinterested, bending a few of the rules to suit himself. But Blackwell is nothing like my father. Ethan Cade would never support unscrupulous or inhumane activities. Like human trafficking.

  I’m only thankful I got Hayden out of the casino when I did. I don’t want to be caught up in this mess, but it would be a million times worse if she were here.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Hayden

  I walk across the parking garage, my heels clicking against the concrete floor. I can’t believe I’m leaving Blue. It took Mira two hours to do my hair and makeup, and I never got what I came for. But darn Adam, I couldn’t say no with him looking so desperate for me to leave. He truly believed I was in danger by being there. I thought he’d burst a blood vessel if I stayed. That’s the only reason I agreed to go. Doesn’t mean I’m not still furious with him.

  I made zero inroads into finding out about the grand opening party the vendor accidentally mentioned to Nessa, and I made sure to chat up everyone at the bar. Not a single person had heard about it. Was it canceled?

  Before Adam hauled me out, I’d meant to check on the Bliss suites. I dressed so that no one would recognize me. Technically, I could still go up there. Adam didn’t say anything about staying away from the hotel rooms; he wanted me to leave the club. And okay, I highly doubt he wants me near the suites, given our arguments regarding Bliss, but he’s put me in a bad position. I told Mira I’d check out the suites tonight, and it’s probably the only time I can get away with it.

  I stop in the middle of the parking garage and glance back. I’m in a wig and heavy makeup, and an outfit I would never wear. Not even William or Paul recognized me. Adam did, but he has a freakish sense for the shape of my ass.

  I know where the Bliss suites are located; I could go there and scope things out before anyone realizes it. The guards wouldn’t recognize me as the human resources director they’ve turned away these last few weeks. And it would put my mind at ease to have checked out the one lead I managed to find.

  I turn around and head back in, speed-walking as fast as I can in my platform stilettos across the casino floor. Adam’s afraid for my safety, but I’ve been taking care of myself since I left this town, and I’ll take care of myself tonight too.

  I make my way to the elevator bank before I change my mind—only I’m not alone.

  The man in the dark suit standing in front of the elevator doors looks over. And it’s William.

  Dammit.

  “Hey, beautiful!” He glances past me. “Where’s Adam—the guy you left with?” he says, because he clearly hasn’t figured out who I am. William thinks I’m one of the pinup girls here tonight. He doesn’t realize Adam and I know each other, or that William knows me, for that matter.

  “Oh, I decided to stay.” I use a girlish voice I hope disguises my normal one, and it sounds ridiculous. Not that it puts off William.

  “Tell me he didn’t leave you?”

  “Um…sort of?”

  William slides his arm around my shoulders. “That idiot. Allow me to fix this. I was just heading up to an exclusive party in one of the suites. Be my guest. There will be champagne and appetizers, and plenty of stimulating conversation. I promise.” He grins widely, his gaze focused in the direction of my cleavage.

  William wouldn’t be talking to me and checking out my boobs if he recognized me. Okay, maybe he’d be checking out my boobs, but he for sure hasn’t recognized me. This could work. William is a Blue Star and he wants to bring me to a party in one of the suites. Which is exactly where I want to be. And if that suite is a part of Bliss? Even better.

  “I’d love to.”

  The party William takes me to is, in fact, at the Bliss location. And I am blown away. This is nothing like the penthouse suites on the other side of the hotel floor. The suite we enter is huge, just as the plans from the facility manager’s office indicated, and so elaborate and beautiful I’m afraid to touch anything. Or spill my champagne, which is Dom Pérignon, of course.

  Sensual music plays through invisible speakers, and my heels press into plush white area rugs so soft that I sink when I walk. The sound of glasses clinking at the bar and the chatter of men fill my senses—and cause the air to crackle with an energy that leaves stinging goose bumps along my arms. It’s caged and aggressive, and if I weren’t here for a good reason, I’d hightail it out. But I’m here because of Blackwell and the Blue Stars, and because my instincts tell me what they’re doing inside this casino is wrong.

  I take in a shallow breath and spot Adam in a corner of the room talking to a huge guy who’s got to be some kind of professional athlete. Adam hasn’t seen me, or he’d be on his way over, riding my ass to leave. The suite is crowded, and if I don’t want him catching me before I’ve had a chance to look around, I had better move to another room.

  “How about a tour?” I say to William.

  “Whatever the lady wishes.” He gestures to a room on our right and I enter it, happy to be someplace Adam can’t see me, though I’m not sure this room is any better.

  One by one, William shows
me each of the bedrooms and shares his knowledge of drugs that reduce sexual inhibition, while I attempt to appear casually interested. William also asks if I want to take one of the rooms for a test drive, but that’s beside the point. Adam might kill me when he finds out I stayed after I said I would leave Blue. But not before I kill him.

  Adam is involved in Bliss, which I knew, but this suite isn’t your typical eccentric hotel experience. All of the rooms are elaborate and sexual in nature, with dance poles and crazy bathrooms designed for Roman orgies, but the room that really stands out is the one with the sex dungeon. I know for a fact that the casino doesn’t own a license for sex-oriented business. We had to make sure the burlesque dancers didn’t remove pertinent pieces of clothing during tonight’s show for that reason.

  Mira and Tyler called the suite they’d found several months ago the “fifty shades suite,” and they weren’t kidding. Only, I’m pretty sure that whatever Mira and Tyler came across, it was nothing compared to Bliss. Mira described the other suite as large, with custom cabinets filled with sex toys—not an entire room devoted to chaining someone up. What the hell?

  William and I return to the living area, and I feel it. That prickle of awareness that centers in my shoulders and spreads down my chest, sending heat to my lower belly—the sense I get when Adam is near.

  I scan the room and find him staring at me. The athlete is still with him, but so are Eve and Blackwell. And Blackwell doesn’t look happy. In fact, he looks like he always does around me. Angry. Annoyed.

  Does Blackwell recognize me?

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Adam

  Gabe greets me with a handshake after Paul walks away. “So this is Bliss?” he says, and looks around.

  “Where all your dreams come true,” I respond dryly.

  Gabe eyes the other men, then does a leisurely sweep of the women and the living space. He raises an eyebrow. “Excellent taste.”