by Nancy Gideon
Not that it should matter to her what Nick Flynn thought.
Once the car door closed, the spacious interior went dark. The tinted windows muted the effect of the lights outside. Nick was warm and close beside her, and Zanlos sat opposite, now an unknown in the impenetrable void. She didn't like not being able to keep her eye on him. It was like having something poisonous wending about in a room without knowing its location.
The car pulled smoothly away from the curb. Anticipation and alarm volleyed for prominence.
A scratch of sound and a bite of sulfur preceded a flare of light. The match illuminated, not Zanlos's hawkish features but those of a woman seated beside him. Rae hadn't realized anyone else was in the car. Nick flinched beside her, equally startled.
"Nick, Ms. Borden, may I present my partner in all things, Anna Murray."
Her beauty was flawless, breathtakingly so. Or at least Nick had trouble inhaling. Rae regarded the other woman while fighting the urge to bury her elbow in Nick's ribs as a sort of Heimlich kick start. Anna Murray had the ageless quality of the best fashion models—smooth, fair skin, natural blonde hair styled into a sophisticated roll, a trim yet still voluptuous figure that only a blind man could resist. Yet for all her creamy loveliness, there was something not quite so attractive in the steady focus of her dark eyes. Those unblinking, penetrating eyes seemed to find a dark amusement in what she saw as she extended a slender hand to Rae.
"Ms. Borden, how do you do.” A strange voice that was both melodious and at the same time toneless, without accent or depth. Her fingers were surprisingly cold on the steamy night. Perhaps the air conditioning in the big car.
"I'm happy to meet you, Ms. Murray."
And she was dismissed the second those piercing black eyes touched on the man beside her.
"And Nick.” The rumble of a big cat with a particularly tasty morsel between her paws. “A pleasure to meet you at last. Kaz has had only good things to say about you. Welcome to the firm."
He held her hand in his, staring until Rae's elbow was cocked and ready, blurting out at last, “You're the Murray in Meeker, Murray & Zanlos?"
"Surprised?"
"Pleasantly so. You're not what I expected."
"I never am.” And she smiled, baring even white teeth. “And if your star continues to rise, you might start getting use to the sound of Murray, Zanlos & Flynn."
"Really, darling, don't tease Nick,” Kaz chastised as if he, too, enjoyed some inner amusement. “We can't have him measuring Marvin's office for furniture before the poor man is ready to retire, now can we?"
Anna squeezed his hand and leaned close to confide, “Do it discreetly, dear.” There was nothing discreet about the way her pale silk blouse fell away from her bosom, giving Nick a long, leisurely look all the way to her navel. Nick blinked, apparently dazed by both temptations.
And they reminded Rae of two pretty, mean-spirited children waving a treat above the head of a hungry stray just for the fun of making him jump. Would Nick jump? How high?
He released Anna's hand and settled back into the seat next to her. His wry smile said he knew he was being toyed with but didn't mind it ... too much.
"I'm in no hurry to crowd Marv out. I've got more than I ever thought possible already."
"Then you think too small, Nick dear,” Anna chided. “I like a man with rabid ambition, don't I, Kaz?"
"Yes, darling. You'll like Nick. He's not shy about going after what he wants. Are you, Nick?"
"If it's worth having, it's worth your best effort."
"Is that right, dear?” Anna looked straight at Rae. “How good is his best effort?"
"I don't know. He had me with his first smile."
Their gazes locked in a moment of female challenge. Kaz broke it with his husky chuckle.
"Our Nick has a way with women. They love him, but fortunately, our Nick loves his work more."
"And do you like your work, dear?” Anna's question had Rae on a mounting pin like a specimen ready for closer study.
"Like Nick said, anything worth doing is worth doing well."
The glib response apparently satisfied her, for Anna laughed and relaxed her combative pose. And as she turned her elegant head to stare out the tinted windows, Rae caught an odd glint in her eyes, that same almost phosphorescent glow that sparked from Gabriel's and from Marchand LaValois's.
Then the light brush of Nick's fingertips over the back of her hand distracted her from that bizarre coincidence. On the car seat between them, out of sight from the two opposite, Nick began a slow mating ritual with his thumb, making sensuous circles about each joint of each finger until she was shifting restlessly beside him.
She didn't get it. Here he was delivering her into a career of supposed prostitution and at the same time was courting her with these semi-erotic flirtations. If he wanted her so badly, why was he giving her away?
Deliberately, she drew her hand away under the pretense of rummaging through her small handbag. She reapplied her lipstick, using a narrow pocket mirror then, just as she was finished, the car took a quick turn through traffic, jostling her on the seat. The hand holding the mirror angled sharply as she caught herself, catching the reflection of Zanlos in the small rectangle.
And an empty space beside him.
A sudden jarring blow to her wrist from Anna's knee took her equally by surprise. The mirror fell to the floor of the vehicle and, before she could reach down to pick it up, a slender spike heel shattered it into tiny slivers.
"Oh, dear. I am sorry,” Anna purred with thick insincerity. “I guess I can look forward to seven years of bad luck."
Nick bent down to pick up the broken mirror. “Ladies as lovely as the two of you don't need to be reassured as to how fabulous they look.” He made a small sound of dismay and looked at his thumb where a bright droplet of blood oozed from around a spearing fragment of the glass. As he removed the barb, Rae heard the strangest sound.
A growl, low and throaty, coming from Anna Murray. She covered it quickly, pretending to clear her throat, and Rae was almost convinced she'd been mistaken.
Almost.
Until she noticed the sudden glittering in the stare riveted to the small wound.
"Here.” Kaz supplied a linen square for Nick to wrap about his finger. “You don't want to ruin your shirt."
As Nick bound the small puncture, Anna sat back, breathing rather loudly, her gaze slitted and glimmering. A nasty feeling settled upon Rae. Was the woman into strange stuff or just plain strange?
The car pulled up in front of the Noir de Nuit and they exited amid a crowd anxious to get a nod from the doorman. The first and only time Rae had been inside, she had snuck in on the arm of some elderly statesman, pretending to be his escort. She'd been an outsider, a threat. But in the company of the two club owners, a path was cleared as if for royalty.
"Good evening, Mr. Zanlos, Ms. Anna,” purred a buxom hat check girl.
"Hello, Maxine. Good crowd tonight?"
The girl grinned at Kaz. “Big tippers."
"The best kind."
As they walked through the lobby area, the pulsing beat from the dance club below throbbed up the open stairway on a strobe of multicolored lights. The young D.C. up-and-comers flocked there for a fierce techno rock sound and an elbow-to-elbow mill of fun-seekers. Entrance was for anyone who could afford the exorbitant cover charge, and the group was kept below by several burly bouncers lingering at the top of the steps. The club's exclusive, older patrons were allowed by membership only to the rooms on the first floor, the mix and mingle bar area, the soft sounds dance floor and the private dining nooks.
Their group of four was shown to one of the secluded, curtained-off rooms that looked the way Rae would picture a Turkish bordello. Draped in dark crimson velvets and black satin and fringe, all that was missing were the snake charmer and hash pipe, though she imagined the hash pipe could be found for a price. A semicircular table faced the outer room, a plush booth curling behind it. The
bench seat was backed by dozens of pillows which could be rearranged to give diners ample room for other dessert samplings once the curtains were drawn to seal them into their own isolated haven. They slid into the booth, she and Nick in the back, Anna on the end next to Nick and Kaz beside her. Kaz ordered drinks, and Rae understood that her interview was about to begin.
"Look around, Ms. Borden,” Anna began in an almost indifferent tone. “This room is filled with lovely, exciting young women. Tell me why I need you."
She looked and, indeed, the women working the room were to a one gorgeous as they hung on the arms and upon the words of their dates for the evening. But there was also a similarity to all of them that she picked up on at once.
"I'm new here. I don't exude the same ennui as your other ladies. Perhaps some of your guests would prefer more of a country mouse to your collection of skilled professionals."
Kaz laughed and draped his arm along the back of the booth behind her. Though there was no actual contact, Rae was very aware of his encircling presence. And uneasy within it.
"My darling, I do believe she is calling your girls jaded."
Anna frowned a bit but upon examining the crowded room, she gave a relenting sigh. “Perhaps she is right. Our ladies will have to work on their enthusiasm. And you are enthusiastic, Ms. Borden?"
"I'm out of money, Ms. Murray. I have nice clothes and nice manners and no place to hang either. I don't want to return to Detroit if I don't have to. I don't have anything of value waiting for me there."
That wasn't a lie. With what she was doing now, she would never be able to return to her previous protect and serve position. This revenge was the only thing left to her, and some of that desperation must have shown through to Anna Murray's dissecting gaze. The woman nodded.
"Plenty is always better than poverty, having lived in both myself.” Anna gestured toward the crowded room. “This is just the tip of what we do here at the Noir. You understand that, of course."
"Of course."
"My girls are chosen for their poise, their charm, their beauty, of course, and for their ability to make some weary and past-his-prime politician feel young and desirable again. With their families often on another coast, they are lonely and eager for companionship. They come here to form a bond with one of my girls. It starts with drinks and dancing and conversation here in this non-threatening atmosphere. If they like what they see, it becomes more. Once a client decides upon a particular girl, she is his to parade about at public functions as an escort, as a hostess in his home, as a sympathetic listener to all his woes. And she may become more. I leave that up to the girls. Devotion and discretion are what we are known for. None of these gentlemen want to see their current paramour out on the town with another man while he is paying the bills. Do you understand?"
"Like a mistress."
"Exactly, for how ever long the arrangement lasts. Some of the girls don't like that much permanence and choose to date on a night-by-night basis. That's up to them. With all the functions in Washington, we have no shortage of calls for a witty and well-dressed companion. We, Kaz and I, broker out the companions and in return, we receive a percentage dependant upon the experience of the girl and the services required."
"That's what you get, but what do your girls get?"
"Job security. A health plan. We'll even set up a 401K for retirement. There's a housing and clothing allowance up front to get you started. The girls are independent contractors. This is not a family. It's a business, and I run it as such. What you do when you're not on the job is not our concern until your indiscretion forces it to become so. We do not ever embarrass our clients. That is the one inflexible rule."
"An easy rule to work within."
"You think so? Some of the girls have not found it to be so, much to their misfortune."
Threat hung heavy upon that statement. Rae understood. Break the rules, become one of the Murder Capital's statistics.
"I am not foolish or greedy, Ms. Murray."
"What else are you? Nick vouches for you and, according to Kazmir, that says much, but a pretty face alone makes us no money. We require a girl with initiative and imagination, one who is not afraid to be bold. But discreet."
Here was her test, a gauntlet thrown down. How she picked it up would determine whether she left the Noir employed or on a plane back to the Motor City.
The curtains to their booth area were still open, and they were the focus of much attention from the others in the room. Discretion and initiative. Okay, she could do this. If she could pull it off, she'd be on the inside where she could do measurable damage to the smug Kaz Zanlos.
The drinks arrived, and as they were passed about, Rae dropped her napkin to the floor. Murmuring a polite, “Excuse me,” she ducked down beneath the table.
* * * *
Things were going well for Rae, Nick thought somewhat sullenly as he nursed his drink. She was everything Kaz and Anna were looking for—clever, lovely and, as she pointed out, different from the other sharp-edged women who worked the Noir. Clients would snap at her like fresh bait in a stocked trout pond.
And he hated it. Hated knowing that once she began work here, under the terms of her employment, there could be no socializing between them.
But they hadn't hired her yet. Perhaps she would make some glaring error, or offend them, or worse, bore them. Then he could enroll her in a good typing class and...
She slipped beneath the table after her purse or napkin, or something she'd dropped. He figured the initial press of her palm over his thigh was an innocent touch, especially after the way she had pulled away from him in the car. He understood. This was business, and he was to keep an impersonal distance. But then her other palm joined the first on his opposite leg, and they ran in tandem up to where he was the least prepared for her attention. A purposeful squeeze had him nearly clearing the seat.
"Nick, is something the matter?” Kaz asked out of misplaced concern.
"Fine,” he assured him in a voice that wasn't half as unsteady as the hand he used to reach for his water glass.
She was at his zipper.
Though he was in full view of the crowd at the bar and his companions, the drape of the table cloth disguised her intentions beneath it. That voyeuristic effect was as alarming as it was unbelievably, intensely, erotically pleasure-charged. He tried to drink from his water as her clever fingers found him through his opened fly. His teeth clattered upon the edge of the glass as he gulped and nearly choked. The feel of her incredibly soft lips on his hot skin sent him into a coughing fit.
"Goodness, man. Are you all right?” Kaz demanded, leaning over to vigorously pat him on the back. And about that time, Rae rose up from beneath the table linens to slide back into her seat. Her gaze was at a sultry half-mast, and when the tip of her tongue slipped appreciatively along her lower lip, no one had any doubt of what she'd retrieved while out of sight.
Kaz cleared his throat, amused by Nick's sudden flush of color. And Anna Murray leaned back with a smile, impressed by the discreet display of ingenuity.
"When can you begin work, Ms. Borden?"
"Any time it's convenient."
"Tomorrow would be fine.” Anna fished in her tiny bag and drew out a card. Upon it was a single, gold-embossed number. “That's how you can reach me or my service. Stop by Kaz's office around noon. He'll give you an advance to see to your wardrobe and whatever else you might need. Then be here at ten sharp tomorrow evening to be introduced around. Kaz, we should go now. We have some other business to attend. The two of you, have another drink and a meal if you like. The car is at your disposal."
Then she slid out from behind the table and, as Kaz joined her, he pulled the curtain shut, veiling the two of them in privacy.
Rae looked at Nick. “I start tomorrow.” Her eyes glowed with a feverish excitement that was somehow too intense for the moment. “Thank you, Nick."
Well, now would she tell him to hit the road or find a more fitting way to thank
him? An unworthy thought from a jealous soul. She had her fine job, now she didn't need him to protect or amuse her. He'd never had anyone in his life to care for, and he'd hoped ... What a fool he was.
Twice the fool for harboring those notions for even an instant.
She leaned into him, her arms winding about his neck. And he forgot his perplexity and his doubts and everything else except the feel of her against him.
Their kiss was long and wet.
"The rest of the evening is ours,” she murmured against his mouth. “What would you like to do?"
"We could order dinner."
She frowned prettily. “Not hungry for what's on the menu."
"How ‘bout you finish what you started?” he suggested with a nibble of her lower lip. His hands cupped her bottom, lifting to help her step one leg over his, so she could settle on his lap where his attention was so painfully focused. Just the tease of her wiggling above him was nearly enough to undo his control.
It took all of about two seconds for him to forget their surroundings.
She arched against him, all liquid heat and urgency. She held his gaze for a long, seeking moment, letting those mysterious green depths convey her passion, her gratitude, her ... affection? Was that what he saw there burning like a slow, emerald fire?
Did she care for him, or was this as far as their relationship would go now that he had seen to his promise?
Why did he want more with such a desperation?
His fingertips tunneled beneath the hem of her short black dress. He followed upward until he came to the end of smooth nylon. She was wearing stockings. He reached higher. And nothing else.
His breathing shuddered.
He combed through the already moist curls, two fingers following the slick passage leading into the ready heat of her. He pushed in, lifting her so that her lush bosom pressed over his face. He breathed in her warm fragrance and licked along the upper swells of her breasts as she squirmed restlessly upon his imbedded fingers. Sensing her soundless need, he sought the source of her distress with the pad of his thumb, pressing until she moaned, rotating until her hips ground down over his hand.