by Shayla Black
“Let’s not rehash ancient history,” Jonathan said. “You came to me with a problem. Are you sleeping with Kristoff?”
Shanna shook her head. “Of course not. Until I saw the video, I thought he was firmly in the gay column.”
“At least that’s one less complication.”
The early-morning breeze whipped through her hair. Shanna looked down into her steaming mug. “I have to decide what to do. I don’t want to lose Kristoff as a partner. Training a new one would take so much time. But if the judges get their hands on that footage…”
“That would be devastating. The old crones would crucify you. The men…they’d either try to bury or debauch you.”
“Exactly. I want to strangle Kristoff every time the realization that he’s jeopardized everything hits me.”
“In the dance department, you’re well-matched. Kristoff is a fabulous athlete who wants to win every bit as badly as you. Admit that much.”
She rolled her eyes. “I suppose.”
“Stop,” he demanded. “I know you too well. Everyone else may buy that puffed-up bitch act, but we both know better. It took me years to realize you’re not half as pissed as you are afraid. You’re trembling at the thought of being vulnerable and of not holding that trophy so you can finally prove to your family that you’re a champion. Is Daddy’s opinion really more important than friendship? It’s okay to stand by your friends, even if your family will disapprove.”
God, he had her number.
“Have you taken up psychotherapy on the side, Freud?”
“Just calling your bluff.”
“I came to you for help, and you’re giving me hell.” She stood and grabbed her paper mug.
“Sorry,” Jonathan murmured, looking like he wanted to say more on the subject. Mercifully, he didn’t. “Do you have any other information about the video or its delivery that might help you track down the blackmailer? Or did Kristoff know anything about how it was made?”
“No, I don’t think Kristoff has a clue. But last night, the owner of the sex club in which the footage was filmed tried to seduce me out of my panties. If the event hadn’t been for charity—”
“You know where this tape was made?”
She nodded. “A place called Sneak Peek.”
“The club for voyeurs and exhibitionists?”
Jonathan knew about that place? “Yes.”
He sat back in his chair, a taunting smile curling up his mouth. Shanna felt her heart seize. He looked at her as if he knew being watched made her wet. Did he? Did every man who watched her dance?
Thankfully, he didn’t go there. “So when you danced with this mate, did you talk to him, see what he knows about the video and its creation?”
“No.” She’d been too busy resisting his seduction, trying to fend off his unnerving ability to see past her defenses.
“There you go.” He shrugged. “Maybe he can help you track down who’s blackmailing Kristoff.”
Shanna gripped her tea. Jonathan was right. The answer had been staring her in the face. Alejandro could find out exactly who had filmed Kristoff.
All she had to do was put herself in his path again and pray she could resist him.
“I need your help.”
Alejandro Diaz looked up at the female with the trembling voice hovering in the door of his office. Platinum hair pulled tightly away from her unusually pale face. Blue eyes smudged with the bruises of sleeplessness. Shanna York. Here, in his office.
Well, didn’t this make his morning interesting?
“Long trip to the ladies’ room,” he drawled.
She lifted her chin—her silent way of telling him she would not bend her pride to apologize for having deserted him last night. Alejandro frowned…though he was silently amused.
“You came on too strong. Again. I needed to put space between us.”
“And now you do not? Today, I’m supposed to forget that I enjoyed a dance and a half, rather than the eight I paid for.”
“You gave that money to charity.”
“To be with you. The charity was the cherry on top.”
“You paid for the opportunity to dance with me, not seduce me.”
Why not both? he wanted to ask, but tactically retreated from that line of questioning. Starting a fight with Shanna wasn’t the way to entice her to stay. Raising her hackles would not get him the up close and very personal time he wanted with her.
“Perhaps I succeeded, since you have come to Sneak Peek because… What was that you said? Ah, yes. You need me.”
“I’d still be avoiding you if I didn’t need your help,” she shot back. “Which I happen to need now. Please.”
Hmm. She’d likely choked on that word. Shanna was stubborn and tough and wore her ice like armor. No doubt it warded off most men.
He was made of stronger stuff.
Alejandro stood and faced her. “What can I do for you? Take you on a tour? We have great facilities.”
Her expression softened. “It’s a beautiful place. I was expecting something…”
“Dark? Sleazy? Dirty?”
She hesitated. “Glass-and-chrome seedy, yes. This is really…warm.”
That’s what had attracted him to the house in the beginning. Ali thanked God every time he set foot in the place that his business partner, Del, had agreed with his choice of locations. Its shimmering white plaster walls glowed Hollywood golden when the sun set over the hills of Los Angeles. The expansive gardens had a charming Spanish Revival feel, complete with decorative tile that rimmed the pool and outlined the patio steps leading to the second floor. The bars, both indoors and outdoors, welcomed guests. Converting the house into a club had given it the feel of an intimate party, rather than a bunch of strangers getting naked together. That instant comfort level was one of the reasons he and Del had been so successful since opening Sneak Peek. That and good business sense.
Alejandro shrugged. “I took one look at the house and fell in love. Cary Grant built it in the 1920’s. The previous owners started restoring it about ten years ago…and ran out of money. Del and I spent a small fortune to buy the place and finish renovating. I have not regretted it.”
“It’s gorgeous.”
“As are you. Since it’s clear you are not here for me to seduce, what can I do for you?”
Her charmed smile disappeared. The tense hand-clasping returned. “My dance partner and I have a…situation. A delicate one. Kristoff has been here, as a customer, right?”
“I’m not at liberty to answer that. Privacy is something we protect fiercely here at Sneak Peek. I hope you understand.”
“But that’s just it. Someone invaded his privacy. They filmed him…” She shook her head. “It would be better if I showed you.”
Alejandro frowned as Shanna reached into an oversized bag hanging from her shoulder and extracted a flash drive in a clear plastic case. She handed it to him, her expression tense. He popped it into his laptop.
Two and a half minutes later, anger boiled his blood.
“Where did you get this?”
“Someone left it in my dressing room last night just before the benefit began, along with a note telling me that if we competed in the upcoming California Dance Star, this footage will be sent to all the judges.”
“And neither you nor Kristoff have any idea who sent it?”
She shook her head. “That’s why I’m here. I was hoping you could help me. That competition means…everything to me. I’ve worked years to win this.”
As driven as she was, as ambitious as rumor painted her, Ali believed it. She had dumped three partners in the last five years. One after breaking his leg badly skiing just before dance season began. The next partner had been history when he dropped her during a lift—in the middle of a competition. The third…he was a mystery. There one day, gone the next. Alejandro’s mother had the pulse on all her favorite and not-so-favorite dancers. Mamá said there had been rumors of a torrid—but brief—affair between she and J
onathan Smythe.
Alejandro extracted the flash drive, slotted it back in its case, and handed it to her. “There are absolutely no still or video cameras allowed in the club. Period. That is part of our strict privacy policy.”
“Which someone clearly violated.”
“Yes, because that isn’t security footage. If it was, it would be black and white and from an aerial view. It certainly wouldn’t be in full color and focused in tight on the action.” Alejandro rose, paced.
This was very bad news. People paid a lot of money to enjoy themselves at the club anonymously. Often high profile people. Stars, senators, diplomats. If that privacy was compromised and people found out… He didn’t want to think about what it might do to their business.
“Would you excuse me for a moment?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Alejandro pulled his cell phone from his pocket and hit the speed dial button to reach his partner.
“Del?” he asked after hearing a familiar voice rumble at the other end. “We have a situation you ought to know about.”
“I’ll be there in five.”
It was more like ten minutes later when Del sauntered in, buttoning his shirt and wearing a smile. His mussed hair explained why. Damn, it was barely past ten in the morning, but his buddy had already been getting busy. A glance at Shanna reminded him that he hadn’t been busy like that in longer than he cared to admit…and he knew exactly who he would like to change that fact with.
“What’s up?”
“Del, this is Shanna York. She is a professional ballroom dancer. Shanna, my business partner, Del.”
Shanna held out a prim little hand for a professional shake. Del, being the Frenchman he was, enveloped her hand and brought it to his mouth for a soft kiss. “Enchanté.”
No doubt he was enchanted, but this wasn’t a free-for-all.
“Back off,” Alejandro growled in Del’s ear.
His friend sent him a dark-eyed glance full of curiosity. Ali wasn’t saying a word. Del wasn’t stupid. He understood.
When Shanna snatched her hand away, Ali had to repress a gratified smile. When had any woman ever pulled away from Del? Never. Usually, they threw themselves at his dark stubble, wealth, and bad attitude.
“This is Shanna’s situation…”
Ali clued Del in, and Shanna provided the flash drive for viewing again. After the clip ended, Del was gnashing his teeth and looking none too happy.
“I wish I knew who to beat the shit out of for violating the rules.”
“Me, too,” Alejandro agreed.
“Okay, so you don’t know off the top of your heads who might have done it,” Shanna said. “I’m assuming you know in which room this…event took place?”
“Yes,” the men answered together.
“Maybe by figuring out who might have used the room in the last week, you can get a list of likely suspects. Do you keep records?”
“For payment purposes, yes,” Del confirmed. “But that room, it’s likely been used at least fifty times since that recording was made.”
Shanna did the math. “Ten…events in there a day?”
With a shrug, Alejandro smiled. “We go through a lot of sheets.”
Del laughed, the sound hearty and male.
“Aren’t you two cute? Freshman Frat Boy and his sidekick, Horny.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m assuming you don’t want it known that someone is sneaking into your club and recording your guests’ most private actions without their consent or knowledge.”
He and Del sobered up quickly. She was right. Business now. Pleasure…soon.
Still, his mind took a little detour. Her shock about the room’s constant use was amusing, and it pleased him that she did not understand how addicting watching—and being watched—could be. Yet. He intended to introduce her to that delight.
“Of course we don’t want our guests compromised,” Del cut in smoothly. “We could make a list of all the guests who have used this room in the last week, but I doubt it would help. In all honesty, I would never have believed any of our members would violate such a cardinal rule. The fee to join is steep enough to attract only the most serious. Our rules are absolute; there is no room for gray. We also have ways of ensuring that anyone who violates our rules finds themselves unwelcome at similar clubs elsewhere.”
“This feels to me as if you were targeted specifically,” Alejandro said. “The note was delivered to your dressing room, so close to a major competition…”
“That’s it! Do any of my competitors belong to your club?”
Ali looked at Del, who looked back at him. That was the great thing about having been friends for nearly a decade. They could almost read each other’s minds. Answering the question wasn’t really giving away information…
“No. Kristoff is the only ballroom dancer and he’s recent. He came highly recommended and has been very active since he joined.”
“I’ll bet.” She snorted. “And here I thought he was your average, garden-variety gay man…”
Del choked. Alejandro resisted the urge to laugh himself.
Shanna swatted his shoulder. “Okay, clearly that’s untrue. You two can stop snickering now.”
Alejandro couldn’t resist her ruffled feathers for another second. He was dying to soothe them…right before he melted her.
“What about any of my former dance partners?” She directed the question to Alejandro. Not that she suspected Jonathan, but the first two hated her. “Do you know who they are?”
“No and yes. None of your former partners are members.”
“Hmm.” Shanna bit a pink, bee-stung lip as she thought. “Have any of your other members indicated this breach of privacy has been a problem for them?”
“Hell no! Whoever took the footage isn’t one of your competitors, but it is someone who knows about your world of ballroom. About you and what you value.”
“Yes,” Del agreed. “Someone who knew that competition was coming up and that the judges would punish you if such footage became public.”
“Any ideas who among your members that could be?” Shanna prompted.
Again, Ali looked at Del, who shook his head. “Not a clue. I could ask you the same question. Who are your enemies?”
Shanna’s blue eyes darted around as if scanning her memories. “No one else I can think of. If it’s not a former partner or a competitor, I know of no one who hates me enough to want to destroy me.”
“Well, if any guest was a friend of one of your former partners or competitors, we have no way of knowing.”
“True…” Shanna nibbled nervously on a hangnail, then, as if realizing she’d done something less than perfect, she stopped. “What about your employees? Do any of them have access to video cameras and those rooms?”
Del shook his head. “We have four types of employees: security, housekeeping, waitstaff, and bar crew. That’s it. They are paid to be invisible unless they’re needed. None of those employees should be anywhere near a room when it’s in use. All the watching and exhibiting is done for and with fellow members.”
“So, another dead end…”
“It appears,” Del agreed, then looked his way. His buddy had the glint of the devil in his eyes. “That we should draw this blackmailer out.”
“Have Kristoff come back and do it again and hope someone makes another recording?” She sounded confused.
“No,” Ali said, catching on to the idea. “Kristoff has been recorded. He has served his purpose. It is interesting that whomever recorded him chose to give the video not to him, but to you.”
“Exactly,” Del chimed in. “The blackmailer is trying to get to you. He or she wants you to suffer. Kristoff is just one avenue.”
“So what are you suggesting I do?”
One more time, Alejandro and Del exchanged a meaningful glance.
“I think, querida, he’s suggesting that I arrange a scene for you here and see if we can catch him red-handed in the act of filming you.”
/> Shanna’s jaw dropped. “Are you insane!! You think I should come here and get naked and…”
“Spend a little time showing our members what you enjoy,” Alejandro supplied.
“I can’t give this creep any more ammunition to ruin me.”
“He already has everything he needs to discredit you with the judges. But I do not think he’s actually trying to prevent you from competing, as much as he’s attacking you. This feels personal, not business related. If you want to find out who is behind this, you must…expose yourself.”
“I’m not into that!”
After last night, Alejandro knew better, but now wasn’t the time to remind her. “Pretend, if you must. But I believe the plan will work.”
Shanna hesitated, as if she was pondering his words. “If I agree to this crazy scheme, can I do…whatever it is alone?”
Alejandro couldn’t resist the grin spreading across his face. “Plenty of our members would jump through rings of fire to see you touch yourself.”
“Wait. You mean masturbate for an audience?” She turned terribly white under her usual golden glow.
“Even the thought of it makes me hard,” he whispered for her ears alone.
“Absolutely not!”
“No? Then I will be more than happy to assist you,” Alejandro volunteered.
“I’ll bet.”
“It would be more believable…and more blackmail-worthy,” Del chimed in. “I will hide in the room and watch all doors, windows, and passersby—see if I can identify our camera-wielding asshole.”
Her jaw dropped. “It’s bad enough to contemplate getting naked with the Latin Lover, here. But having you watch? No.”
That horror on her face was nothing but a lie. Her suddenly hard nipples told him that. She was scared—of herself, of him, of whatever was fueling her ambition. Suddenly, he wanted to get to the bottom of it all. He wanted to learn her.
“What troubles you? Is the idea too arousing?”