by Pat White
Yet he couldn’t help but admire her devotion to Sully. It might be painfully misplaced but her love for her uncle was touching. Anyone who could love a man like Sullivan, seeing his faults yet forgiving him anyway, couldn’t be all bad. Or was she motivated by the money? Was she in this to get a piece of the action?
No, when she had talked about Sully being marked by the mob, real tears welled in her eyes. A twinge of jealousy tickled his gut. No woman would ever shed tears over Jack Hudson. Not in this lifetime.
Staring out the window he mentally kicked himself for the self-pity. He’d always been a lone wolf. Even as a member of the high school wrestling team he did his own thing, kept a safe distance from the guys. Jack didn’t need anyone or anything.
Which was why the cabin was perfect. With the exception of helping out Butch now and then, Jack would live an isolated life away from stares and judgments. He could travel, explore—heck, he might even rediscover the artistic magic he’d buried years ago. There were so many things he wanted to do. It was time to live again.
The Franken Niece sighed and tipped her head to one side as if drifting off. If she were sleeping he’d eat his Stetson. Staring at her pale skin and the curve of her jaw, he found himself swallowing his frustration. He needed that bonus. The money would provide security while he explored his freedom. Maybe he and the Franken Niece could meet halfway.
He cleared his throat and she opened one eye. Yeah, right, she’d been asleep.
“How about a truce?” he said.
She opened both eyes.
“I’m interested.” With a lift of her chin, she unfolded her arms and placed her hands in her lap. A little less defensive, a good sign.
“About Tiger Lady…” he said.
“Her name is Tatianna.”
“Tatianna, right. My problem is, I usually work alone.”
“Learning to adjust is a valuable skill.” She sounded like Miss Connors, his fifth-grade teacher, who loved doling out daily lectures on proper behavior.
“Let me finish,” he said.
She nodded for him to continue.
“If I’m going to work with her, pretend to be married to her, we need to get to know each other.”
She pursed her lips, obviously not pleased with the direction of this conversation. Why? Could she be jealous? He smiled to himself.
“We’d work better as a team if she trusted me more,” he said. “The only way that’s going to happen is if we spend time together, alone.”
“Alone?”
“It’s the best way. I don’t exactly blend in when I go out in public.”
“Oh, right.”
“Tiger Lady was really nervous on the catwalk. I’d like to loosen her up a bit.”
“I’m sure you would.” She narrowed her colorful eyes.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” Then a thought struck him. He rubbed his stubbled jaw with his fingertips. “Although, now that you mention it, I am kinda lonely.”
“You’re a pig!”
“Why? Because I wouldn’t mind having a little fun with an attractive woman?”
“You would find that kind of woman attractive.”
“Why, Frank, you sound jealous.”
“That’s so ridiculous. You can’t imagine how ridiculous that is.” The tips of her ears turned bright red.
“Then you won’t mind asking Tiger Lady to swing by my place tonight. I’ll even dress for the occasion. I’m sure I can dig up a leather loincloth and whip just for her.”
Her eyes widened in shock. Then she fisted her hand. She’d lose her shirt at poker, that’s for sure. He ground his teeth at the image of this woman shirtless. Man, he needed a long night of slow and easy sex.
“I told you, Tatianna’s visiting friends in Milwaukee,” she said.
“All night?”
“How am I supposed to know? She’s just an employee.”
“I’m just an employee and you keep me on a pretty tight leash.”
“Enough.” She put up her hands in a halting gesture. “I’m not having this conversation.”
“So that means you’re not going to ask her to stop by? I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Oh, really? And how will you do that?”
“I’ll keep my mouth shut about Sully’s mob connection.”
“It’s not a connection!”
“It will be when the tabloids get a hold of it.”
“You won’t do anything of the sort. I’ll rescind your incentive bonus,” she said.
“I’ll take you to court.”
And was talking nonsense. He couldn’t afford a lengthy court battle considering most of his funds were tied up in the youth centers and construction costs for the cabin. But she didn’t know that.
“Fine,” she conceded. “I’ll ask her. But I won’t make any promises.”
“I hope for Sully’s sake that Tiger Lady is in the mood to follow orders, Boss Lady.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“You can’t stand the thought of me and Tatianna doing a tango between the sheets, can you, babe?”
“I don’t care what you do.”
“Good. Because I’ve got big plans for my ‘wife.’ She’s a sweet kid. Could probably use a few lessons on how to please a man, know what I mean?”
Clenching her jaw, she shoved her right hand beneath her thigh. He’d lay odds that hand was balled tighter than a drum. He shifted next to her knowing it would drive her crazy, messing up that perfect, orderly mind of hers.
“I’m going to teach her how to drive a man crazy with a single touch, like this.” He traced his index finger along her jawline and she looked away. “Then I’ll show her how to get a man all hot and bothered with a stroke of her tongue along his pulse point, right here.” He placed her hand against his neck and held it there, enjoying the warmth of her fingertips.
She huffed in disgust and yanked her hand away. Was that sexual frustration he read in her eyes?
“See, Boss Lady, by the time I’m through with my little kitty cat she’ll know how to please a man better than a Vegas call girl.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and glared, her eyes sparking fire behind the conservative glasses. “You really think you’re something special, don’t you?”
He grinned. She was cute when she was angry.
“Don’t get too cocky, Mr. Black Jack Hudson. I wouldn’t be surprised if Tatianna teaches you a few things tonight.”
Chapter Eight
“I could use a few lessons on how to please a man? The nerve of that overgrown ape.” Frankie stormed up the sidewalk to Jack’s condo and fumbled in her purse. Where were those darned peppermints?
She still couldn’t believe she was doing this, but anger drove her forward, anger and a desperate need to save her uncle’s kneecaps. She couldn’t chance Jack blabbing to the press about her uncle’s mistake. Not now, not when things were looking up. A few more shows like tonight and ticket sales would skyrocket, merchandise would fly off the shelves, and WHAK would be safely in the black. Maybe, with a little luck, she could prevent Pugsy and the snakes from making a repeat appearance.
“Mama, I should have listened to you.” She paused at the condo steps and popped a stomach-settling mint.
Her mother had warned Frankie to be wary of her uncle because he attracted trouble like honey drew ants. If you get too close he’ll draw you right into the eye of the storm, Mama would say. And if anyone was an expert on storms it was Emma McGee. She was an expert, having lived with and without Dad for some thirty years.
Men. They dragged you through the mud, let you down, or simply didn’t respect you. Jack Hudson was no exception. She’d heard the rumors about his fleeting marriage and infamous sexual trysts. Women fawned at his feet, mesmerized by his sexual charisma. And he no doubt treated them like toys.
“We’ll see who’s gonna play with whom tonight, Buster,” she said, glancing at the dark windows of his condominium on the second floor. Good. She’
d purposely planned her visit for well after midnight hoping he’d be asleep and off guard. Tonight she wanted to take charge and when she did, whoa baby, he’d never know what hit him. Wouldn’t he be humbled when he woke up handcuffed to the bed, dressed in a woman’s negligee?
Balancing much better on her spiked heels she climbed the steps and smiled to herself. Yep, this was going to be one interesting night and an even more interesting morning. She smiled at the thought of being the first person to find him hand-cuffed to his bed. How humiliating for Black Jack to be found and rescued by his enemy, the Franken Niece. She planned to get a lot of mileage out of that one. A lot of mileage.
“He deserves it,” she muttered, still fuming about his threat to go public with her uncle’s connection to the mob. Then again, if she hadn’t slipped in the first place she wouldn’t be here right now. What on earth had made her spill the beans to the man, anyway?
Primal lust, that’s what. The thought of him undressing had sent her into a blind panic. Her world was one of self- control. A nearly naked Black Jack Hudson would blow that straight to hell.
And now she was willingly walking into the eye of that storm all over again.
This time it would be different. This time she was Tatianna the Tigress not Frankie the conservative businesswoman. This version of Tatianna wasn’t terrified because she hung from a catwalk. She wasn’t shy about strutting out onstage. This was the new and improved Tatianna, wild, ferocious and ready for action. She’d show big, bad Black Jack a thing or two. She’d seduce him, wrap him around her finger and leave him begging for more.
She stabbed the buzzer with her thumb. A few seconds passed and she tried again.
“Yeah,” a raspy voice crackled through the intercom.
Good, he’d been asleep.
“Jack, it’s Tatianna.”
“Who?”
“Tatianna from WHAK.”
Silence.
“Tiger Lady? Cat Woman? Your wife?” she prompted.
“It’s…what time is it?”
“Aren’t you going to let me in?”
“Uh, yeah, okay.”
The door buzzed and she pushed her way through, climbing the stairs to the second floor. He was waiting for her at the landing. His hair hung in wild waves and his chest looked even broader than before. Could a man grow muscle mass in six hours? A loose-fitting pair of sweat pants clung to his hips. Barely. Why did she have a feeling he wore nothing underneath? A ball of panic formed in her belly.
I’m sexy. I’m wild. I'm Tatianna the Temptress...Temptress...Temptress.
“You’re wearing your mask.” He covered his yawn with a closed fist.
“I told you I only take it off for one thing.” She winked and splayed her hands across his bare chest. “I was hoping to take it off tonight.” She licked her lips slowly, seductively.
He blinked, twice. When he didn’t make a move to invite her in she pushed past him and sauntered into the condo. The cathedral ceiling gave it an air of spaciousness. A thick-cushioned couch sat at one end of the room opposite an oak entertainment center bordered by bookshelves brimming with novels of all shapes and sizes. She wanted to get a closer look, curious as to what a man like Black Jack Hudson chose for bedtime reading. As her eyes scanned the room, a painting of snow-capped mountains took her breath away. Rich in greens, blues, grays, and white, it mesmerized her in a way no other piece of artwork had.
“I thought you were coming earlier,” he said.
“I just got back.” She tore her gaze from the painting and turned to him. He stood a good ten feet away near the door as if ready to make a run for it.
“Frankie said you wanted me to stop by anytime. So I’m here.” She slipped the raincoat off her shoulders and let it pool at her feet on the wooden floor. He swallowed hard and stumbled backward, hitting the door with a thump.
Nothing like black lace bikini underwear to make an impression.
“So, husband, where do we start?”
“About the marriage thing—”
“Makes me feel a whole lot better considering what I’m about to do to you tonight.” With great fanfare, she pulled handcuffs out of her purse and dangled them on her index finger. “Where’s the bedroom?”
“Uh, it’s kind of a mess. Maybe we should talk out here.” He didn’t move.
“Talk? Funny, I didn’t picture you as the talking type.”
“And I didn’t picture you as the man-eating type.”
“Well, then we’re both pleasantly surprised.” She sauntered toward him and grazed her hands across his hard chest. His skin was warm and soft, yet firm to the touch.
Focus. Don’t get sidetracked.
“You’re not wearing your gloves,” he croaked, closing his eyes.
She was thrilled by his reaction, the obvious pleasure she evoked with a single touch.
“I’ve got all kinds of surprises planned for tonight.” Leaning forward, she laved his nipple and blew ever so gently.
“Uh... I think…” he said, his voice hoarse.
“Don’t think.” She nuzzled his chest, took a nipple between her teeth and tugged.
“Hey!” Jerking back, he knocked into a wooden coatrack. He grabbed it and swung it in front of him like a weapon. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”
“Don’t tell me a little thing like me scares a big, tough wrestler like you.”
With a seductive purr and a slow and steady gait, she stalked her prey. He backed up into the coffee table, sidestepped it, and retreated behind the leather couch, coatrack clutched in his hand.
“You’re scared,” she said.
“I am not.”
“I don’t believe it. A man who body slams three-hundred-pound men and gets the stuffing kicked out of him three hundred nights a year is scared of a little kitty cat like me.” She licked her lips and crawled across the couch on her hands and knees. “Meow.”
“I’m not awake yet. And I didn’t expect—”
“What? You didn’t expect a frisky feline to show up on your doorstep?”
“I’d feel better if you took off that silly mask.”
“And I’d feel better if you spread out on that bed of yours facedown. I’m going to teach you how to purr, real slow.” She arched her back, flashing generous cleavage.
He cleared his throat and gripped the coatrack with such force his knuckles turned white.
“Go on. Go get ready for me, Tiger,” she said. “I’ll be right behind you. Right after I freshen up. Could you point me to the bathroom?”
“Down the hall to the left, but—”
“Go on, unless you’re really not as tough as you pretend to be. Frankie said you were probably a lot of talk and no action.”
His clenched his jaw at the mention of her name.
“Well? Was she right?” She edged closer and walked her fingertips up his chest. “Are you a big scaredy cat?”
“I’m not scared of anything. I’ll see you in the bedroom.” Pacing down the hall he glanced over his shoulder, as if he still couldn’t believe she was there, offering to fulfill his kinkiest sexual fantasy. He dragged the coatrack into the bedroom and shut the door. Hmmm. This was going to be an interesting night.
Frankie was pleasantly surprised that the bathroom didn’t reek of male sweat or moldy towels. She took a deep breath and stared into the mirror. She could do it. She could put him in his place and get control of the situation.
With a snap of her fingers she removed the mask and splashed her face with cold water. This was going to be one night Black Jack Hudson would never forget.
She secured the mask back in place in case he didn’t follow orders and wasn’t sprawled face down on his bed. The last thing she needed was Jack discovering her true identity. She hated to think how he’d use that to his advantage. He knew Frankie was easily intimidated by his sexual power. Tatianna on the other hand…
Grabbing her bag of tricks, she opened the bathroom door and strutted down the hall. She took
one last fortifying breath and flung open the bedroom door.
The glow from a full moon illuminated his bedroom through wind-blown curtains. Her gaze drifted from the beautiful wooden rocker by the window to the oak dresser piled high with books, and finally settled on the four-poster bed. She noticed a candle burning on his nightstand.
“You’ve still got your mask on,” he said from the king size bed. His hands were folded behind his head, his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles.
“And you’re not lying the way I told you to.”
“I can’t see your gorgeous body if I’m facedown.”
Uh oh. He’s waking up.
“This isn’t about seeing. It’s about feeling.” Slipping a silk scarf out of her bag, she ambled toward him. No going back now.
“Roll over, cowboy.” She traced the scarf across his chest and noticed his breath quicken. He reached for her but she stepped back, keeping a steady balance on her spiked heels.
“This is my game, remember?” she said. “Consider it my way of thanking you for saving my life tonight.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“Well, if you won’t roll over I’ll have to improvise.” She ran the scarf along the curve of her palm.
“Take off your mask.”
“Patience, cowboy.”
She kicked off her shoes, grabbed a second scarf from her bag and tucked it into her pantywaist. In one fluid movement, she climbed on top of him and straddled his hips. She slipped one of the scarves around his eyes and tied it behind his head.
“I didn’t know you were that kind of girl,” he mumbled, reaching for her.
She grabbed his wrists before he could touch her. He didn’t resist, didn’t fight to get his advantage back.
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me. But after tonight…” She bound his wrists, securing them to the bedpost. “You’ll know it all.”
“Uh…Tatianna?”
“Shhh. Trust me.”
“But—”
“Do I have to gag you, too?”
She traced her hands across his chest down to his ribs, ribs she’d heard had been bruised and broken on more than one occasion. The heat from his skin burned her fingertips.