After pulling into the parking lot, he hurried to her side of the car and opened the door. Glancing up at him, her eyes had nearly taken his breath away. Their almond shape fuller in the middle, giving off the innocent appearance, yet he knew there was something underneath, screaming to get out. Right now, they were filled with worry.
A few minutes later, standing shoulder to shoulder beside an exam table, she leaned into him for support.
The kind-faced veterinary tech removed his latex gloves. “I wish the news was better, but this little guy is in pretty bad shape. My guess is he’s about a year old. He’s malnourished, in need of vaccinations and his wounds are infected and likely fatal without treatment.”
“But with treatment, he’ll be okay?” Jayla asked.
Alistair could hear the looming tears in her voice.
“Probably, but our current policies prevent us from taking in strays. I’m sorry, but unless you’re planning on adopting him, he’ll have to be euthanized.”
“What? You can’t.” Jayla looked up at Alistair.
“I’m sorry,” the tech repeated.
She leaned over and gently picked up the kitten. “I-I can’t have animals. My landlord will kick me out,” she responded softly, petting the cat’s head. “Maybe Snow can take him?”
Her eyes brimmed with tears, physically paining him.
“He can stay with me.”
Looking up at him, her doe-eyes widened as her lips parted. “What?”
In that moment, she could have asked for anything, and he would have given it to her.
“I’ll take care of him, and you can come visit whenever you want.”
She bit her lip and looked down at the cat. Petting his head, Jayla sighed. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t.”
Looking up, her honeyed eyes glistening, she watched him, as if searching for something.
“What? You don’t think I can handle it?” Alistair smiled, reaching over to scratch the cat behind the ear.
Relief washed across her face. “I’ll split the cost with you. To take care of him, and everything,” she stated, nodding.
Leaning down, close to her ear, he breathed the scent of her in, a heady scent, driving him wild. “No need, Princess,” he whispered. When the blush crossed her browned cheeks, proving his nearness affected her just as much as it did him, he nearly groaned.
“The only thing you have to do is name him.”
Jayla pressed her cheek to the top of the kitten’s head.
Lucky bastard.
“Rajah,” she whispered, more to herself than him.
“Rajah?” he repeated, testing the unfamiliar word.
Looking up, briefly, she explained. “It means prince, in Arabic.”
“Guess that settles it,” he said to the technician. “Looks like Rajah here is going home with me.”
Chapter Seven
“Bare is best,” insisted Belle, as she hung freshly cleaned wine glasses from the rack on the bar.
Madame Lily’s was slated to open in less than a week and they were busy with final preparations. With its fully stocked, top-shelf bars, a menu to die for, tables lining the floor and VIP areas, and the lighting giving off a romantic vibe, they were nearly set. Just a few finishing touches remained. Tonight, all staff would be meeting — performers, servers, bartenders, chefs, even the security men. Excitement coursed through Jayla. Despite her best efforts, she was already developing a sense of home at the club.
“Whatever tickles your peach,” Sirena said, twirling a strand of her red hair around her finger. “I’m just saying that guys always want to know if my carpet matches the drapes. Drives them crazy.”
Jayla just shook her head and giggled. Never in a million years did she think a conversation about personal grooming would ever be work appropriate, but here they were, discussing body hair, or rather, debating its removal.
A male voice cleared his throat and they all turned to the door.
“Ladies,” Alistair said once all eyes were on him. “I hate to interrupt this riveting conversation, but there’s someone here to see you.”
“He’s so cute!” Snow exclaimed, jumping from her seat, taking Rajah from Alistair’s arms.
“Isn’t he though?” Jayla replied, purposely letting her gaze linger on Alistair, before turning her attentions to Rajah.
Snow put the tiny cat on the floor and he took off across the room, jumping onto booths and exploring every nook and cranny like he had been there a million times. True to his word, Alistair had been taking great care of him. Rajah had already gained a few pounds and with his wound practically healed and his fur cleaned, he was every bit as playful as a kitten should be. After a few minutes of exploring, it seemed he couldn’t make up his mind which of them he liked the best and ran back and forth between Alistair and Jayla and the others, vying for their attentions.
“He won’t sit still.” Alistair laughed as Rajah darted behind the bar then reappeared on top of it. “I can’t keep up.”
Laughing, Jayla leaned closer and whispered, in a teasing tone, “Not surprised my pussy wore you out so soon.”
He feigned a wound to the chest before bowing in a mock gesture of acquiescence. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”
Over the past couple of weeks, she and Alistair had talked daily, and she’d grown comfortable with their banter. He’d text her pictures of Rajah playing or sleeping on his chest, making both sweet and sometimes crude — yet funny — comments. He never said anything, though, which caused her concern, or was off-putting. It was as if he read her mind, knowing just how far to push with his flirtations. Which, strangely, allowed her to flirt back even more.
He’d offered on more than one occasion to bring the kitten to her apartment, but she’d flatly refused. While Alistair seemed like a decent guy, she’d been burned in the past by a man who started out sweet and ended up nothing but pure evil. It was safer to keep her distance, and it would save her the embarrassment over showing him her dingy apartment.
“I can’t imagine how this little guy got in here,” Belle said, reaching out to pet him. “But I’m so glad he found you guys.”
“Wonder if he’d like something like this?” Snow asked, pulling out her keys and holding up a small laser pointer. “All the cats at the shelter love this thing.”
She directed the small beam of light onto the bar, then quickly moved it to the floor. Rajah watched it intently, then pounced.
“Guess that’s a yes,” Snow said, and drew the tiny red dot across the floor, with Rajah fast behind it.
“I need to take a quick look at one of the cameras, okay if I leave him here with you girls for a few minutes?” Alistair asked, laughing, as Rajah covered the dot with his paws.
“Of course!” Snow answered for all of them.
Jayla tried not to look obvious as she watched Alistair climb the stairs up to the balcony. Alistair and his men had finished the security set up a few days ago, testing systems, and showing the girls differing safety features. He’d taken a few extra minutes with Jayla, assuring her that she would be safe in all areas of the building. She hadn’t told him about Jeffrey, so it came as a surprise he seemed to know she needed to feel protected.
Rather than scare her, his astuteness was … nice.
More shocking? Her feelings toward Alistair. She argued with herself, at times berating herself for the attraction, not wanting to get close, to have anything akin to a relationship. Or a one-night stand.
Other times, she wanted more, unable to deny the gravitation toward him.
A few minutes later he reappeared and Rajah jumped off Snow’s lap in a flash, rubbing against Alistair’s legs, purring until he was lifted into his arms. Alistair brought him to his face, rubbing his nose into the cat’s fur, asking “How’s my little man?”
A chorus of “Awwwww” erupted from the women.
Good grief, it’s just a guy with a cat, Jayla thought.
Who
was she kidding? The other women had simply voiced the very same reaction she’d felt dozens of times over the last couple of weeks.
Tucking Rajah into the crook of his arm, a maneuver that looked too easy to have been the first time, he checked his watch.
“All right, ladies, ready to start the interviews?”
“Interviews?” Jayla asked.
Opening his mouth to answer, Belle cut in, her voice half singing in sarcasm. “Interviews. For our bodyguards.” Turning to Alistair, she crossed her arms. “This is so not necessary. Aleks is just being overprotective.”
A sad smile ghosted across his face. “He is. But I am too. And I fully agree with this idea. Besides,” he shrugged, “I’m not looking to get my ass kicked for not giving him exactly what he asked for.”
“What if I kicked your ass for doing it?” Belle asked, completely serious.
“Hmmm … ass kicked by Beauty, or the Beast?” He pretended to ponder a moment before pressing his chin forward and adding, “Take your best shot.”
“Smart man.” Aleks’s voice surprised them all. He walked over looking both stern and weary.
“Not up for discussion, again, kotik. I’m not taking any chances. Your safety, and the safety of the other girls is paramount.”
“He’s not coming here, Aleks. Even if he did remember, he wouldn’t dare.” Belle crossed her arms.
Jayla looked to Snow, confused. Sirena’s lips pursed, as if wanting to speak, but said nothing.
“Belle, please. Please, can we not argue about this anymore? Let me just protect you.”
“I don’t need protection.”
“I need it. This is for me,” Aleks pleaded.
Jayla wondered how long Belle would hold her ground. Aleks looks like he was about to drop to his knees and beg.
That would be a sight. The idea of a large, imposing male, on his knees in front of his woman.
An even sexier thought crossed her mind — Alistair in front of her, on his knees, wrapping her leg around his neck, taking her with his mouth. She shook her head of the salacious thought.
“I’ll take Jayla first,” Alistair commented, his free hand motioning toward the door that led to the security office.
Her face heated at the timing of his comment, before remembering where she’d be going. “I don’t understand. What are we doing? I’m hardly qualified to interview a bodyguard.”
“No, Princess, you’re not interviewing the guards, we’re interviewing you. It’s simple, should only take about twenty minutes. Demographic stuff first, name, date of birth, stuff like that, and a couple of other questions to populate Peter’s database. The better we know you, the better we can protect you.”
Jayla’s heart pounded against her chest. Personal information?
Her falsified documents were sound — she trusted her father’s ability to hide her away from the world. But, logging information into a database? What if they took a picture? Could Jeffrey find her?
“I’m with Belle, is all of this really necessary?” she stuttered, nausea creeping up.
Alistair sighed. His voice was low, carrying the slight twang of frustration. “Come on, Jayla. I’ll take good care of you.”
Reaching out, he took her hand, the tops of his fingers brushing over her knuckles seductively. The touch sent a jolt through her, keeping her in the present moment instead of allowing her anxiety to take hold.
Unable to speak, she allowed him to pull her off the chair.
“Can you watch little man for a few?” he asked, handing Rajah off to Snow.
“On it!” she chirped, pulling the kitten up to her face and scratching him behind the ears.
Jayla’s legs felt heavy. It was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other as she followed Alistair to the back office. I wonder if this is what people feel like as they’re being marched off to be beheaded.
Alistair opened the office door, escorting Jayla inside.
Peter sat at the desk, ready to start the first round of questioning. His reddish-brown hair was in its normal state of messiness, the longish strands sticking up at all angles. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, yet his facial hair never grew past a centimeter or two, something the guys constantly made fun of him about. Currently, his grey eyes were framed by thick black glasses — and clear lenses. His eyesight was perfect yet he thought they looked “cool”. Alistair wondered how much of this influence was due to Tink.
“Pete, go grab lunch.”
Peter cocked a brow, “Lunch? It’s 10:30.”
“Grab breakfast then,” Alistair remarked, motioning for Peter to vacate the seat.
Sighing, Peter moved. “Whatever you say,” he added, picking up his coat, walking out the door, and shutting it gently behind him.
Alistair motioned for Jayla to sit in the chair across from him, on the other side of the table. Eyes darting around the room, she played with her hands in her lap.
He didn’t like making her nervous. Feisty, confident Jayla he could handle with ease. Anxious Jayla? He swallowed, uncomfortable with not being able to soothe her. He resisted the urge to pull her onto his lap, rub her back and help her relax.
Whatever it was she was hiding, it was time to come clean. He’d seen her defend herself against two grown men, sending one into the hospital, according to police. But the idea of talking about herself had her scared? He sensed whatever made her this nervous, was something he needed to know about.
“All right, Princess. Let’s start easy. What’s your name?”
Cocking her head, she responded, “You know my name.”
“I know your first name. I need it all — middle, last. And date of birth while you’re at it.”
Jayla huffed. “I answered all of these on the application Belle gave me. Can’t you just get the info from there?”
Her defiance drove him wild, sending him from wanting to soothe, to wanting to punish. He wanted her over his lap, panties down her thighs as he reddened her cheeks for not answering. Yet, her tone indicated apprehension rather than anger. Alistair prided himself on knowing what a woman needed, and right now, Jayla needed comfort.
“Tell you what. Whatever I ask you, I’ll also answer. Good?”
Her lips thinned, yet she nodded. “Jayla Marie Salonga. June 15th.”
He nodded. “Age?”
“Twenty-seven.”
Typing in the information, he gave his answer. “Alistair Scott Kane. Thirty-one. April 18th.”
Her face lifted, smiling a moment before a short laugh escaped her lips.
“What?” he asked, perplexed at her finding something humorous.
“You’re an Aries.”
“Yeah?” he asked, dragging out the word.
“Just fits, that’s all.”
He wasn’t big on astrology, thinking it a silly superstition. “I’m taking that as a compliment,” he replied, shrugging.
“You would.” Her smile hadn’t yet left her face, and once again, he was amazed how it changed her features.
Continuing on, he asked, “Social?”
Rattling off numbers quickly, he had to ask her twice. When finished, he did the same, as promised.
“Marital status?”
She stiffened. “Single.”
“Me, too. Children?”
This time, her gaze shifted to the side. “No.”
“You okay?” he asked, at the unease of her body language. Perhaps she’s wanted kids?
She nodded. Lying.
Pressing on, he learned she was a California native, having left a few years ago. He’d lived in New York his whole life. They both had no siblings, and had been on their own far too young — her at seventeen, him at eight.
She’d never entered college. Her cheeks darkened at this admission, seeming embarrassed. When he admitted he never completed even high school, he’d watched some of the tension leave her shoulders.
Next came the harder questions. “All right, any legal history? Including any restraining orders o
n you or orders you’ve placed on anyone.”
“No.”
“Any history of abusive relationships, or anyone who may be looking to harm you now?”
Her eyes widened, her skin paling.
Shit.
“Why is this important?” she asked, obviously not wanting to answer.
Not wanting to say yes.
“To keep all the girls here safe, we’re implementing a ‘blacklist’; anyone who should be denied admittance — either based on past history with anyone here, or by doing something stupid when the club is open.”
Playing with her lips, she didn’t answer.
Taking a chance, he softened his voice. “Tell me about him.”
“What?” she asked, eyes blazing with trepidation, and surprise, indicating he hit the nail on the head.
Double shit.
Standing and walking to her, he pulled a second chair close. Sitting, he rested his forearms on his knees. She shifted in her seat but didn’t back away.
“Tell me about him, Jayla.” He was pushing. Based on her expression, she wanted to answer, she was just scared.
“There’s nothing to tell. It was just a … surprising question, that’s all,” she smiled, as fake as fool’s gold.
Nodding, he couldn’t hide his disappointment. She wasn’t ready to open up.
Which meant he should back away.
He needed to back away.
I can’t.
Chapter Eight
Returning home later that night, the regret over how she treated Alistair was like a hundred-pound weight in her chest. He was only doing his job, asking questions for her safety. And she could tell that her refusal to answer, her inability to trust had … bothered him.
Finders Keepers (Fairy Tales After Dark Book 2) Page 5