Hell on Heels

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Hell on Heels Page 17

by Carla Cassidy


  Minutes later she was in the back of a cab carrying her to the Tamillo Grand Hotel and her date with Marcus. But she found her thoughts drifting from the task ahead to the man she’d just left behind.

  There was no question that she and Luke shared a nearly overwhelming physical attraction to each other, but what frightened her just a little bit was that other feelings, deeper feelings, were beginning to build inside her for him.

  He was nothing like what she’d imagined him to be. Just as he’d stereotyped her as a bored socialite, she’d stereotyped him as a crass, insensitive lowlife. He was none of those things.

  Falling in love with Luke Coleman would be as stupid as hitting a sale without a charge card in hand. Investing emotionally in Luke Coleman would be as stupid as buying a dozen pairs of size-five shoes in the hope that her feet would eventually shrink.

  Luke himself had indicated that when people tried to get too close to him, when he got uncomfortable with a situation, it was nothing for him to pick up and move on to a new job, a new location.

  No matter how much her heart got involved with the man, she knew the worst thing she could do would be to let him see that he meant anything to her. If he had any indication that she might be getting involved, she had a feeling he’d run for the hills.

  They were partners on this particular case and at the moment enjoying each other sexually, but she knew better than to expect anything more from him.

  She shoved aside thoughts of Luke, needing to clear her mind and prepare herself for what was to come with Marcus Willowby.

  By the time the cab pulled up in front of the hotel a cold calm had descended over her, a calm that was comforting in that it was familiar. It meant she was centered and knew what she had to accomplish with this dinner. She felt as if this was a role she’d prepared to play her entire life.

  As she walked through the hotel lobby she noticed the two bodyguards seated in the bar area. So, Marcus hadn’t come alone this evening.

  A maître d’ greeted her at the entrance of the Seaside Room and ushered her to a table next to a window where “Mark Wills” awaited her.

  He was clad in a pair of navy dress slacks and a light blue shirt that intensified the blue of his eyes. He rose as she approached, his signature charming smile curving his lips.

  “Carol,” he said in greeting. “You look lovely.”

  “Thank you. It looks as if we color-coordinated, with both of us in blue.” She slipped into the chair opposite his and offered him a shy smile. “I wasn’t sure you’d really be here this evening.”

  He crooked a blond eyebrow upward. “Why? Did I strike you this afternoon as the kind of man who would stand up a lovely lady?”

  “The only impression I walked away with this afternoon was that you were a handsome man and had asked me to dinner,” she replied.

  The appearance of a waiter at their table interrupted the conversation. He ordered a good bottle of wine then they placed their orders for the meal.

  “So, where in the States are you from?” he asked once he’d poured them each a glass of the wine.

  “A little town in South Dakota,” she replied. “What about you?” She intended to keep the topic of conversation on him whenever possible.

  “I’m from the Midwest, but I’m thinking of making this my permanent home,” he replied.

  “I’m jealous. It’s a beautiful place to live.”

  “You mentioned you were on a prolonged vacation. You don’t work?”

  She stroked her fingers up the stem of the wineglass. “Up until six months ago I worked as an executive secretary for a businessman. For the last five years I’ve done nothing but work and sock away what money I could for my dream vacation. Six months ago I decided to go for it.”

  “So you’ve been traveling for the past six months?”

  She nodded. “I’ve been to France, Germany and England and have visited all the wonderful sights I ever wanted to see.” She pursed her lips in a moue of disappointment. “Unfortunately, I’m on the last of my money, so probably next week I’ll be back in North Dakota looking for my next job.”

  “At least you have another week here in paradise,” he said.

  “That’s true, and I intend to enjoy every moment of it.” She leaned back in her chair and took a sip of her wine, at the same time glancing around the dim restaurant.

  She spied Luke seated alone at a table on the other side of the room. She quickly averted her gaze from him although she was glad he was near in case something went terribly wrong.

  “I’ll bet your family misses you,” Marcus said. “Six months is a long time to be away from family.”

  “I don’t have any family,” she replied. “My parents died three years ago in a car accident and I’ve been on my own since then.”

  She knew this was probably just what Marcus wanted to hear. A perfect victim would be somebody without family support, in a foreign place and without friends nearby.

  For the next two hours she and Marcus ate and talked about myriad subjects. Chantal wished she could get a handle on what drove him, what dark forces dictated his perversion, but he displayed no hint of being anything other than a well-adjusted, handsome man.

  He was one of those men who had the enviable talent of making a woman feel as though she was the most important person on the face of the earth. He was charming and bright, with a good sense of humor, but there was something just beneath the surface that simmered occasionally in his eyes, something that made her skin crawl.

  He conducted himself like a perfect gentleman, flirtatious enough to let her know he might be interested, but not so overt that she would be turned off.

  As he talked, he touched her often, the back of her hand, her forearm and her shoulder. Each and every touch made her skin want to crawl right off her muscles.

  This was the man who had brutally raped her friend. This was the man who had laughed about it afterward, said horrid things to Belinda in an effort to keep her silent.

  This was the man who drugged women then raped them while they were unconscious, the ultimate violator working on his next potential victim.

  “I’ve enjoyed this,” he said as they lingered over coffee after the meal.

  “Me, too,” she replied. Yeah, she always enjoyed dining with a pervert, she thought.

  He gestured to the waiter, then smiled at her. “It’s still early. Can I talk you into a nightcap at my place?”

  “Oh…I don’t think so.” She gave him her best imitation of a teasing smile. “I make it a habit never to go to a man’s place on the first date.”

  She held her breath, hoping…praying she wasn’t blowing it all by playing it too safe. But she and Luke weren’t prepared for the whole enchilada to play out tonight and there was also the little glitch of the two behemoths she’d spotted outside the restaurant.

  “Look, I’m not trying to get you into bed,” he said. “I just make a mean special fruity drink and thought it would be fun if we spent some more time together and had a few drinks.”

  He looked so earnest, so absolutely innocent. God, he was good.

  “I just don’t think it would be a good idea tonight.” She gestured toward the empty bottle of wine. “I’ve already drunk more than my limit. But perhaps another time?”

  “What about tomorrow night? You have any plans?” Although he asked nonchalantly, she felt his energy in the air, a sick energy that made her want to puke.

  “I think I’m going to have special fruity drinks at a new friend’s place,” she replied with a smile.

  His eyes glittered almost feverishly. “Good. Great. You know the beach where we met this afternoon? I’m in one of the bungalows there. Bungalow three, the third from the left as you’re facing them. The actual address is 3 Gulf Drive. Why don’t we say around eight tomorrow night?”

  “All right.”

  He paid the bill and they left the restaurant together. When they reached the lobby the two bodyguards stood and moved closer to where s
he and Marcus stood.

  “Aren’t those the two men who were with you at the beach today?” she asked.

  “Yeah, they were with me this afternoon.”

  “Are they waiting for you?” She frowned in pretend confusion. “Do they go everywhere with you?” she asked. “Are they friends, or what?”

  “It’s a long story,” he said smoothly.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Will they be having drinks with us tomorrow evening?” She let him know by her tone that she found the presence of the two pretty weird.

  “Not a chance,” he assured her with a dry laugh. “I promise you won’t see hide nor hair of them tomorrow night.”

  “Good, because the odds would definitely be uncomfortable,” she replied. She much preferred the odds be in her and Luke’s favor. “Thank you for a lovely dinner, Mark.”

  He smiled and took her hands in his. His hands were slightly damp, as if just the idea of having her in his home the next night made him excited…sweaty. “I should be thanking you. I really enjoyed it and I’m looking forward to continuing tomorrow evening. Are you staying here in this hotel or do you need a lift somewhere?”

  “Thank you, but I’ll be fine under my own steam.” She didn’t want him to know exactly where she was staying.

  He nodded, pulled her forward and kissed her cheek. His lips left behind a wetness on her skin and she fought the impulse to wipe it away. He released her hands and stepped back from her. “Good night, Carol. I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

  She watched as the trio disappeared out of the hotel. At that moment Luke approached from the restaurant. They didn’t speak to one another. She knew he’d get the Jeep from wherever he’d parked and follow the cab that would take her home.

  As she sat in the back of the cab she replayed the night in her mind in excruciating detail. On the surface, he’d been every woman’s dream man…attentive, pleasant and charming.

  She thought about the following night still to play out. Special fruity drinks, that’s what he’d offered her. She knew from her research on GHB that it was often added to fruit drinks because it had a slightly salty taste. The fruit masked that distinctive taste. If she’d had any doubt what he intended, the mention of those special fruity drinks wiped the doubt away.

  At least he’d said that tomorrow night they’d be all alone. She and Luke wouldn’t have to worry about two additional men who were paid to keep Willowby safe.

  Everything was falling into place. By this time tomorrow night she and Luke should be on the jet with Willowby in tow, headed back to the States where Willowby could begin serving his sentence.

  She had no idea how things would stand between her and Luke when they got back to the States. He was impossible to predict, and she wasn’t sure what she wanted to happen.

  When she got back home she had another item on her plate to be taken care of: the little problem of Mundy’s boys trying to kill her.

  She needed to figure out what she was going to do about it. She didn’t want to live the rest of her life looking over her shoulder, afraid of who might be around the next corner.

  She dismissed this problem from her mind as the cab pulled up in front of the hotel. She got out, paid the driver, then headed for the elevator. Before the elevator could arrive to whisk her up to her floor, Luke joined her.

  Two other people got into the elevator with them, making any talk between them impossible. Luke looked pissed and she wondered if something had happened on his drive back to the hotel.

  They had just stepped into their room when he grabbed her and pulled her tight against him, so close she could feel the beat of his heart against her chest.

  “The most difficult thing I’ve ever done in my life is sit and watch that scum touch you,” he said. He didn’t give her an opportunity to reply, but kissed her with a determined intent that instantly set her on fire.

  “I hated it,” she gasped when the kiss finally ended. “I hated the touch of him on my skin. I hated having to be nice to him, to pretend to be interested in him.”

  “Every time he touched you I wanted to punch him out. I wanted to slap my cuffs on him and take him to the floor, to hell with the consequences.” He took her mouth again in a kiss that enflamed her.

  Within seconds they were both out of their clothes and in the bed. She welcomed his kisses, his touch, the very scent of his skin, eager to banish any and all thought and feel of Willowby.

  There wasn’t a moment to think, she could only survive the explosion of raw desire that possessed them both. There was no need for foreplay. She was wet and ready for him when she got on top of him and guided him into her.

  He gripped her buttocks and as she moved her hips his fingers clenched tightly into her skin. His eyes blazed as he held her gaze. She moved against him in a frenzy, falling onto his chest as the tension inside her wrapped tighter and tighter.

  She nearly sobbed with the force of her climax. It washed over her in wave after wave of pleasure. At the same time she was vaguely aware of him crying out her name as he found his own release.

  She slumped on his chest and after a moment he rubbed her back with one hand, then nuzzled her shoulder with a gentleness that squeezed at her heart.

  She rolled off him and to his side and at that moment realized that there had been no time, no thought of a condom. “That was foolish,” she said.

  He leaned up and gazed at her. “Foolish?”

  “Unprotected sex isn’t smart.”

  “True,” he agreed and reached out to run a hand over the curve of her shoulder. “That’s the problem with you. You make me forget to be smart. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m clean.”

  “So am I…and I’m on the pill so we don’t have to worry about any little Crazy Colemans coming from this moment.” She ran a finger over his shoulder where the tattoo felt slightly rough beneath her fingertips. “Is there a story behind this?” she asked.

  “Typical tattoo story.” He stared up at the ceiling. “It was weeks after Seth’s death and one night I got rip-roaring drunk and stupid and decided to have some schmuck poke inked needles into my arm.”

  “Why an eagle?”

  “Why not? An eagle is proud and free and I thought it looked a little more respectable than a naked lady or a hula dancer.”

  “And you were worried about respectability?”

  “Of course not,” he said with a laugh. “I just liked the eagle.”

  There was something intimate about lying in bed with a man and sharing laughter…almost as intimate as sharing sex. Chantal would have liked to linger in the bed for hours, for days, and just listen to Luke laugh and that’s exactly why she excused herself, slid out of the bed and headed into the bathroom.

  She cleaned up and pulled on her robe, avoiding her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t want to see herself with her cheeks flushed and her hair mussed from their lovemaking.

  Jeez, they’d fallen on each other like a couple of animals. She hadn’t even had an opportunity to tell him all that had transpired between herself and Marcus.

  She returned to the bedroom where Luke was propped up with pillows behind his back. She sat at the table rather than climbing into the bed beside him. They had things to talk about and she was afraid that if she got back into bed with him they might not talk.

  “We’ve got him,” she said with suppressed excitement. “I’ve been invited to his bungalow tomorrow night for drinks. He’s promised me it will just be the two of us, so we’re set to take him down tomorrow night.”

  Luke frowned and got out of bed. He grabbed his slacks and pulled them on, then joined her at the table. “Chantal, I know I initially agreed to this plan, but I’ve got to tell you, I don’t feel good about this.”

  “Don’t you back out on me now, Luke,” she exclaimed. “It’s all set up. It’s going to happen whether you like it or not.”

  He shook his head. “I just don’t like it. Too many things could go wrong.”

  “If you do
n’t want a part of it, then just stay out of my way and let me do what I need to do.” She leaned back in her chair and sighed. “Look, I know getting Willowby into custody isn’t going to magically fix my friend’s life. I also know that it won’t completely take away the guilt I do feel about the night Willowby raped her, but I need to do this. I’d like to do it with your help.”

  He rubbed the center of his forehead where a frown line cut deep across his skin. He dropped his hand, his eyes dark and troubled. “All right. You’ve got my help. But we’re not going to sleep until we sit here and address every potential problem that might arise, make sure there’s as little risk to you as possible.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” she agreed. She wasn’t about to admit to him that for some reason she had a bad feeling about the next night as well.

  Chapter 14

  The bad feeling Chantal had felt the night before when she and Luke had hashed out their plan only intensified the next evening as she prepared for her date with Willowby.

  Nerves, she told herself as she pulled on the red sleeveless dress. Surely it’s just a bad case of nerves. Anyone would have a bad feeling knowing they were going into the lair of a monster.

  At least Luke wasn’t there to complain about what she was wearing or to glare at her with those dark, compelling eyes. He’d left the hotel room an hour before to check things out at the bungalow and find a position where he could safely peek into the windows without being seen.

  They were counting on the fact that the bodyguards would be nowhere around, counting on the fact that Willowby would stay true to his pattern and want to be alone when he indulged in his perverted activities.

  She left the hotel room, nerves twisting in her stomach as she rode the elevator down to the lobby. Her high spike heels clicked on the lobby floor, a staccato beat that had nothing on the frantic beating of her heart.

 

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